Heartlines
by kuchee
Summary: After the news of a catastrophe interrupts Aang and Katara's wedding, they must team up with Zuko to bring aid to the Earth Kingdom. Soon enough they realise that working by old friends reignites old feelings. OT3.
1. Chapter 1

Everywhere Zuko looks there are lanterns. Wisps of paper bound together with wire and held high in the air, from barely a foot above Zuko's head to higher than any of the surrounding buildings. Some are as blue as the day's sky itself, and others a deep, piercing orange. The whole sky above the beach is littered with them. Zuko looks ahead.

The ceremony has already started. Katara and Aang are standing beneath a dais made of stone and branches, wound intricately together in a structure with Earth Kingdom jute. Its deep reddish draping is stark and beautiful against the backdrop of the sea curving into Yue Bay.

The officiant stands between their meek, smiling faces. It's painfully formal, Zuko thinks, like one of his weekly general council meetings. But something sweeter simmers under the surface, in the quick glances the pair occasionally share as the High Priest drones on.

Zuko can't draw his eyes away from Katara's hair, which ripples like waves behind her. It wasn't this long the last time he saw her, maybe six months ago, though it feels like a lifetime. A wreath of flowers, in white, red, and vibrant orange adorn the back of her head like a crown.

The officiant is an elderly Water Tribe priest. Someone chosen by Katara, he gathers. Aang had mentioned in his letters how much he just wanted a quiet, small event in the Southern Water Tribe, but with the dozens of advisors crying for neutrality for the Avatar's wedding - not to mention that they hardly had the resources to host an event of that scale - relocations had to be made.

Zuko thinks it's a perfect way to inaugurate Republic City. He would have suggested it himself.

He wonders suddenly if he has somewhere more specific to be than a cozy front row seat - remembering after a moment of mild panic that his part comes after. Three close friends needed to sign as witnesses. Sokka, sitting next to him, is another, but he can't remember who the third is going to be, though he's sure Katara mentioned it to him.

Aang is dressed in a heap of rich robes, the usual oranges, and a billowing red cloak that makes him look almost as regal as the Fire Nation garb does in Zuko's court. Zuko isn't sure if he likes that touch, to be honest. Still, he's practically glowing on the dais, Katara's hands clasped in his. Her dress is a silvery blue that glimmers almost translucently in the sunlight, in contrast to her usual hard-wearing robes and tunics. She looks quietly pleased, if a little overwhelmed, her shoulders held high and strong whenever she catches sight of the crowd. Zuko smiles at her when it ends up being his turn, and receives a momentary look of surprise and a smile in return.

It's almost too perfect, their faces and even their whole stances betraying a childish excitement, cloth billowing against the backdrop of the ocean. It's been a long time coming. Zuko feels something momentous and bittersweet bloom in his chest.

He can't bring himself to scoff, even though the picture in front of him is borderline saccharine.

The priest is finishing up the vow. No matter how hard he tries, Zuko cannot tune his ears to his words. The two of them are resplendent, crowding every one of his senses. He shifts in his seat.

Finally, Katara's speaking. "I will," she says, beaming. Her voice is low and smooth and she wobbles just a little on the end of it. It warms him greatly to see her showing nervousness like that. It's sweet - this, of all things, can make her buckle. Still, hearing those two simple words, Zuko feels a cord cut somewhere deep inside him, a bewilderment like when Appa descends too quickly for him to get his bearings on the bison's back. But there's hardly any time to sulk about that, because Aang -

"Aang?" the priest prompts.

Aang grins, shattering his whole somber act up to now with a crash of personality. His face is radiant. There's no other word for it, and Zuko has to look away so his composure doesn't waver a little.

Sokka is sitting hunched forward on the edge of his seat with his hands clasped together, eyes bulging and face contorting with a pout that threatens to burst into tears at any moment. Zuko pats him on the back in sympathy, as if he has it together himself.

"I will," says Aang, so sweet and boyish that Zuko forgets about that severe cloak instantly. He has that look on his face that means he's itching to hover in the air. They draw each other close in a long hug, followed by a kiss, and then another; the small crowd cheers louder with each gesture. There's a loud blow and a flash somewhere off to the side of the audience - a sole cameraman. Wow, was this really such a big deal? Those things were invented maybe three months ago, Zuko had seen it in the Republic City press.

As people shuffle out of the chairs, Zuko's stomach flutters with hunger, or maybe excitement. He hasn't even had the chance to talk to them yet. He watches the bride and groom being ushered to pose for a picture, an overexcited reporter directing each limb into place as Aang and Katara acquiesce with amused expressions. Sokka and Hakoda end up there soon, followed by some Water Tribe elders.

He'll catch them later, he thinks, before someone decides the Fire Lord needs to be in a shot too.

* * *

With all the formalities out of the way (his ones, anyway, because Sokka and Bumi are still arguing over the correct place to sign on the contract, and the officiant has long disappeared to drink with his party of Water Tribe elders) Zuko finds himself on a table with Toph, a giant jug of what is ostensibly lychee juice between them. Zuko is already feeling its effects; he's never been a big drinker. They're sitting at the very edge of the large marquee that houses all the tables. Toph, like him, enjoys quiet.

"You look a little flustered, Fire Lord," Toph observes over her cup. Zuko frowns automatically. Is it his heartbeat? She swirls the liquid inside the little orange clay cup in her hand. Zuko looks up to see that the shade matches the lanterns perfectly.

"Huh? I'm just tired. I got up so early this morning to fly in."

"On your _dragon_?" Toph says, clearly unimpressed with his complaint. "Wish I could say the same," she blows up at her fringe, which lies uncharacteristically stiff from her current hairdo. "I've been here for a week keeping Katara calm about all this." She tops up her glass. "It was worth it though. This wedding's beautiful." She pauses. "Don't tell them I said that."

Zuko laughs. "Right. It is really nice," he says. Interesting. Katara has never seemed the type to get worked up over a wedding, and she was predictably matter-of-fact about it in her letters. Toph is staring, even though she _isn't_ , obviously, but there's a focus to her expression that feels uncanny. The lychee juice is making Zuko's face warm.

He wishes he had been there to see them - during the preparations.

Toph narrows her eyebrows and picks up a dumpling from the bowl in the middle of the table with her fingers. "I haven't seen you in a while, anyway."

"I've been busy," Zuko says. "Fire Lord stuff, you know."

"Don't you have like, a council?" Toph asks.

Zuko has to smother a smile on the stiff shoulder of his robe at that. Toph's idea of politics seems painfully simple, to say the least. He wishes it was like that, really. "I do. But I need to be there, overseeing things. Especially with all this talk still going on about the Fire Nation being stuck in its old ways." He huffs.

It's going to take more than a decade to change the internal machinations of a hundred year old war-seeking empire. No one observing from the outside appears to be willing to understand that; no one supposed to be reforming on the inside seems to be giving it more than a nominal attempt.

"I just let a couple of guys go last week," Toph says suddenly, blinking at her next dumpling. "They were getting on my nerves."

Well maybe it is that simple for Toph.

Before Zuko can comment on her managerial methods, they're interrupted by a flurry of fabric. He barely has the time to stand up from his chair before Aang glides around the side of the table and attacks him in a bear hug.

"Zuko! You're here! I didn't think you would make it!"

Zuko smiles and extracts himself so he has the breath to reply. "Ugh, don't mention it. I left Kaon in charge of today's round table. He's probably meeting with the metalworking unions and bosses as we speak."

Aang puts on a grimace that conveys exactly how glad Zuko is not to be in Kaon's place right now. It's important, he knows, but there's only so many times you can have the same discussion with the same people. He's trying hard to be more democratic about this than any Fire Lord before him ever was, but it's proving to make every adjustment painstakingly slower. It's good to have someone outside of all this trouble to discuss it with - it gives him perspective, keeps him sane.

"I wouldn't miss this," he adds, feeling too much like he's stating the obvious. Aang squeezes his shoulder with an excited bounce. "Have you seen Katara yet?"

"Nope."

Sokka saunters over. "But he's spent _plenty_ of time with the more attractive sibling," He languidly puts his arm around Zuko's shoulders. "Where is she, anyway?" His eyes are blotchy. Zuko bites a smile away.

Aang says, "I just saw her with your dad over by that table with all those beards," he points his head in the direction. Sure enough, Katara is there, sitting deep in conversation with Hakoda and the High Priest, the cameraman hovering in their vicinity.

"Hmm," Sokka says, watching and frowning - and Zuko knows what he's thinking. How to get Katara's attention - _not_ the cameraman's - and get her over here so they can have some time hanging out just the five of them.

"Uh," Aang starts, "I could go over there and say I have some important stuff we need to do, wedding-wise?"

Sokka scratches his chin, "No, he'd definitely follow the two of you."

Aang hums in thought, leaning on Zuko's shoulder. Standing between the two of them almost distressingly deep in thought, Zuko feels a wave of nostalgia bubble in his chest. He laughs. "Or, you could just ask him not to follow you?"

Aang and Sokka share a panicked glance that says it all. "That's not gonna work," Aang says grimly.

"Zuko," Sokka says, "you're pretty distracting. Ruler of a nation and all. You should grab his attention while I drag Katara over here."

"And then how would I lose him and get back?"

"Oh."

Toph, who has been sitting quietly with her 'lychee juice' all this time, sighs and stands up, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Over here, Sugar Queen!" All heads in the dining area whip towards her. Katara waves and signals with her hand - a few more minutes. They've caught the cameraman's attention, too and Zuko watches his face light up the moment his eyes scan over Zuko and he recognises the emblem and the crown. Crap.

"You," Toph bellows, before the cameraman has taken two steps towards them. "Not another step." She pats her fist.

So Toph is pretty notorious in Republic City. The cameraman stays put.

By the time Katara gets to them, lifting the skirt of her dress to maneuver her bare feet between the crowds of tables, the sun is low in the sky. Everything in the marquee is dusted with a glowing pink sheen.

"Oh, I'm so sorry guys - there's a million people Dad knows from the North that wanted to see me - Aang, you too, you have to go over there at _some_ point, have you guys eaten yet? I'm actually starving- Zuko!"

She almost trips over her skirt to leap into his arms, alarmingly reminiscent of her boyfriend - her _husband_ \- an hour ago. "I saw you in the crowd! I didn't think you were still here."

Zuko returns her hug and holds it for a long moment until she's almost swaying in his arms. It must be the lychee juice. When they part, he beams at her, unable to hold it in. "Let's eat and talk."

Aang calls the catering over to their table. The food is as delicious as Republic City is coming to be known for, as mishmash of the world's best cuisines. Platters of spring rolls and octopus fritters, followed by a main dish of roast duck garnished with a colourful assortment of vegetables. The side dish of seaweed soup remains untouched by everyone but Katara and Sokka. They only manage a few snippets of conversation over it; too absorbed in the meal in front of them to talk. Zuko wishes Uncle could have come - he would really know how to appreciate this meal right here.

But the food, if you ask him, is far outmatched by the conversation with his friends after, laughter and stories and refills of lychee juice abound.

* * *

Zuko has a comfortable room in the hotel by the bay. The _only_ hotel, so everyone else is here, too. He and Aang had built lodgings for themselves further inside the city, not to mention that Aang and Katara and Toph practically live here now. Still, it turns out no one has the mind to travel into the city so late at night after all the drinking and dancing, what with most side streets being under various levels of construction. Katara had the foresight to book all her guests in here, a minute from the outdoor wedding party.

Zuko lies on the bed and closes his eyes. In a few minutes, he'll go meet the rest of them on Katara and Aang's balcony for tea and a real catch up uninterrupted by wedding guests. Just the newlyweds would be fine, too.

A sharp knock on the door interrupts him.

"Come in," Zuko commands.

The man is one of the aides from his friends' entourage, with an envelope in his hand. His face is grave.

"Fire Lord," he stands to attention. "A message for you. There's an emergency in the Earth Kingdom. The Avatar and company await you downstairs."

Zuko rips opens the wax seal on the letter and scans it as he walks down the stairs. He recognises Uncle Iroh's scrawl instantly, not to mention the jasmine-scented parchment.

 _Zuko,_

 _I am sure word has reached to you of the terrible earthquake that took place this morning in the southeastern Earth Kingdom provinces. I urge you to go as a sign of solidarity and friendship and allow me to send a few men after you to aid reconstruction. These matters are exactly where your presence is needed as the leader of a reborn Fire Nation and a founder of the United Republic of Nations. I will oversee your duties in the meantime. Kaon is doing quite a job with the metalworkers._

 _Iroh_

 _P.S. do tell your friends to send me pictures of the wedding._

He rushes to the reception. Downstairs, a small group is already gathered there, Aang and Hakoda amongst them. When he sees Zuko, Aang excuses himself quickly, striding right over.

"We have to go, Zuko," he says, worry lining his face. "The whole Earth Kingdom is in disarray."

Aang drags him into the circle of interlocutors. A harried messenger - from the Earth Kingdom's royal court, judging by his apparel - is giving them a run-down of events. He gives an awkward half-bow in acknowledgement of Zuko's presence, as if he can't decide the appropriate form, between Zuko's ceremonial robes (and crown) and the unceremonious way Aang is still holding onto his limp arm.

Zuko says after their briefing, "What about your - don't you guys have a honeymoon to go on?"

"It'll have to wait," Aang frowns.

Katara comes rushing down the stairs with Sokka just as he says it, as if their thoughts summoned her. A couple of people give them way. "We need to organise a convoy of healers," she says immediately, addressing the group.

"Master Katara - if you wish to enjoy the evening we can-" one of the old beards, a man holding flat a map of the Five Nations, tries to intercept. Katara only interrupts him again. Zuko stifles a smile: as if that's going to work. Hakoda, who seems to know his daughter marginally better, says, "Katara, dear, we can take care of it if you two want a break."

Katara's face is tense. "No. We have to go. I have the best healers in the world under my command." She turns to Aang, "And what's the Avatar for if he doesn't go to help out - what are they saying? Tens of thousands missing and homeless already." Aang and the messenger are nodding severely in agreement, one proclaiming his duty and one affirming the statistics.

No one has anything to say to that.

"I'm going as well," Zuko states to the group. "I'll meet with the province leaders and see what resources they need. We still have the best technology to offer them."

Katara's expression is absolutely beholden to him. Zuko stands firmer and straighter.

She steps to Aang and holds him by the shoulders. It's an image familiar to Zuko, though somewhere in the years they have swapped heights.

"You should go ahead," she says. She takes Zuko's hand and squeezes it. "Both of you."

Aang's face falls a little; clearly he had something else in mind. She takes it in her hands apologetically, and Zuko wonders why the rest of their little party doesn't have the good grace to even pretend to look away, like he does.

"Wait," Sokka says suddenly. "Doesn't it make sense if Katara goes first? Medical assistance is the first priority. Some of the best healers are right here with Katara in Republic City. And the Northern Water tribes can send more soon, right?" He nods towards Hakoda and an elderly woman next to him, who react with stern, ready eyes that say _let's discuss it tonight._

"You're right," Aang says. He looks at Katara. "Take Appa."

Zuko adds, "Take Druk, too, you'll be able to fit a few more others."

Sokka makes a strangled noise.

Zuko rolls his eyes. "He's _domesticated_. He'll do what I say."

Sokka, Katara and their tribesmen end up conferring late into the night. Zuko catches snatches of the conversation throughout the evening as he and Aang load up the vessel that has been brought out to Yue Bay for them.

"I'll get as many of my quickest, most experienced healers as I can," Katara explains. "I'll put a call out first thing tomorrow all over the city, too."

Sokka is looking up at the sky; there isn't a cloud in sight. He squints. "If you start late morning, you should reach by afternoon tomorrow." He looks at the map again. "If Dad and I start to journey North tonight, we can send more healers by next week."

"What about Aang and Zuko?" Katara says.

Sokka peers closely at the map. "You'll be there next week on this ship. Faster than by land."

It's chilly by the time they finish loading up; the spring hasn't settled yet. They say their goodbyes. To think that just this morning, Zuko had been complaining about a few uncooperative armour forgers. Tens of thousands are probably dead.

He introduces himself to their ship's Captain and navigator. There's one thing he isn't going to miss - he could have been back in the Fire Nation tomorrow, stuck in a meeting. And like Uncle said, this might help deal with the dissidents; the next, now-predictable wave of people who are still arguing that the Fire Nation isn't looking to reform, or that it shouldn't, or that the nations can never be well integrated.

The thought leaves a guilty taste in his mouth, but he has always preferred being hands-on than confined to a desk, ruling from afar.

A couple of days alone with Aang might liven him up for a bit, too.


	2. Chapter 2

_In the inner square of the main palace court, Aang finds a quiet moment. He picks a spot under the shade of a column. He's alert. It's going to take time to get used to the calmness, with no gargantuan task ahead. Not for now._

 _He stares up at the ornate engravings in the ceiling high above. A phoenix? A wave? It feels weird to be in here as a guest, without having to watch over his shoulder._

 _"Aang." A familiar voice, in an unfamiliar tone. Down the stairs comes the newly anointed Fire Lord. Aang comes to realise he's been waiting here for just that._

 _"What are you doing out here?" Zuko says._

 _"Just taking a break," Aang says. The crowd still murmurs outside. He jumps suddenly, recalls the present situation, and bows as elaborately as he can under the heavy ceremonial robes. "Your Fieryness."_

 _It earns him pleasant laughter, surprisingly. It's nice, and a little surreal._

 _Zuko looks so clean and so smart and so tall and so -_

 _Peaceful. That's the word._

 _"Everyone's waiting out in my uncle's quarters," he says after a bloated pause. "We're going to Ba Sing Se for a while." And then, "Aang? You're… you're smiling really weird."_

 _"Right," Aang gives his head a quick shake. "Let's go." But he's standing in place. There was something he wanted to say. What was it? The heat in this country is oppressive, distracting._

 _Another expectant pause, before Zuko turns in the direction of the stairs leading outside, where they're supposed to be heading. Aang stirs up a low breeze to catch up, the last tendrils of it making Zuko's opulent cape billow as he falls into step._

 _"You're going to be an awesome Fire Lord," he says._

 _The small smile Zuko offers in return is almost impossible in its clarity._

* * *

The slapdash skyline of Republic City begins to take shape as they slowly float further and further away from it. Aang watches with his elbows resting on the rail. Neither Katara nor Sokka came to wave him off from the bay as the emergency planning needed their attention; they had shared a few words earlier while Aang was packing up.

He smiles. Katara is always busy.

Even hours deep into organising the city's resources, she still had the wreath he made for her in her hair, despite the fact that she had changed into her healer clothes and a pair of sturdy boots. He hadn't even considered that she might wear it at the _wedding_ when he was making it.

There's no way around it - he's so excited to finally be married. The earthquake hangs heavy in his mind, but it's still so soon after, and right now it's impossible for the dismay to overtake the sheer excitement of the wedding celebrations.

And he has Zuko with him. He hasn't seen Zuko in a million years, or that's what it feels like, anyway. He wonders where Zuko is now - they had caught up briefly over dinner but it wasn't anywhere near enough considering how long they've been apart. And it was everyone at once, too. The thrill of being with all his closest friends at his wedding was enough, but not _enough_ enough. He needs Zuko alone - it's always been how Aang's best moments with him are. He tries not to dwell on that.

His best friend. And apparently, Katara's best pen pal buddy. Though he doesn't know what on Earth _that_ could be like - when they're actually together, they never seem to get beyond bickering.

Aang finds Zuko through a lit window on the deck, though he's hard to spot among all the junk. The ship is only a ship in the barest sense of the word; it isn't really big enough or spacious enough or reinforced that well. It's the best they could spare at a moment's notice, and the journey shouldn't be that long. Besides the navigation room, the only other room above deck is a large, spacious living area filled with chairs and maps - a conference room, basically. Zuko is the lone figure at one of its low desks. He has an inkwell and parchment, but his pen lays flat on the wooden surface.

Aang pulls up a cushion and sits opposite him, crossing his legs to mirror Zuko.

"Sifu Hotman," Aang says.

Zuko only looks up briefly in acknowledgement, not even bristling at the nickname. Aang notes with a hint of disappointment that he must have gotten used to it over the years. "What are you writing?"

Zuko nods towards a slip of paper on the desk. "It's for my Uncle. He wrote to me this morning. I need to tell him what we're planning out here. I'll send someone as soon as we land."

Aang picks up the letter on the desk and skims it. After a few moments, he laughs, "I'm glad the cameraman was worth the trouble."

Zuko smiles at that. "Really, you don't have to send him pictures -"

"Of course I do." He smiles back, then suddenly remembers. "Oh! We should have taken a picture with you!"

"I swear, that thing takes half an hour to recover after one photo."

"True." He adds, "When was the last time I saw Iroh?"

"Two summers ago, at the Royal Palace."

"Right. Wow. It's been way too long." Aang leans back so he can better see Zuko's expression. His eyes are always easier to read than the rest of him. "Did you like the wedding?"

"It was nice," Zuko says, and straightens out his shoulders. The corners of his mouth quirk in a smile, but it doesn't reach far enough to feel genuine.

"Are you okay? You seem kinda upset," Aang starts. "I mean the news is terrible-"

"I'm fine," Zuko says, shaking his head. He looks Aang in the eyes. "How are _you_? Married man - how does that feel?"

"It's the _best_ , Zuko."

"Katara looked so beautiful."

"Right?" Aang says. He furrows his brow, "Wait - is that why you're upset? You wanna get married?"

"I'm not upset."

"Okay, well. Whatever it is, I hope it didn't ruin the wedding for you." He pauses, "You know, I'm really glad you came."

Zuko shrugs weirdly. "I wouldn't miss it." He's fiddling with the pen, eyes unfocused. Aang hums lowly.

This is the part where he knows he should tease, or even make a genuine comment: something encouraging, about Zuko and a girl, a wedding, a shared life. _I can't wait to see yours_. But it feels two-faced no matter what way he looks at it. Especially after his own wedding.

He watches Zuko start writing again.

It's because he _isn't_ interested in it - Zuko, all the way over there, making little Fire Princes and Princesses with a faceless (though probably amazing) girl.

What's wrong with him? It's selfish, right? The stupid, stupid remnants of a whirlwind childhood crush?

Still, he doesn't want to be dishonest just for the sake of it. He settles on the truth. "I'm so happy, Zuko. I hope you get to feel like that pretty soon."

Okay, that's - kind of weird thing to say, too. Zuko doesn't seem to notice.

"I just need to put this brief together before the palace's monthly meeting next week," he says without looking, answering Aang's eyes on him.

Aang watches the lines of his face. Even with the years under pressure, he still doesn't look as _wired_ as he did when Aang first saw him as a child. There's something polished about him - something actually, properly regal - that shines through Zuko's resolve more than the title, and much more than any of his past hardships. It's the thing that has made Aang's heart catch with pride (though it's not _entirely_ pride) ever since he first started noticing it.

He hasn't always been a perfect leader and he hasn't always been a perfect friend but Aang, at twenty-three, is just as protective of both of those journeys as he was at thirteen. Probably even more so.

He doesn't know why it would feel weird to let Zuko know that. It's too close to the, um, other feeling. In fact, he's scared they bleed right into each other.

It's always different with Zuko. It always has been. He thinks about his closest friends. Toph, Sokka, Suki. Bumi. They're all people he could count on in a heartbeat. All the best fun with them - it's what he lives for; barring Katara, barring his duty as the Avatar and the last airbender.

Zuko is different.

There's the unspoken element to their friendship, the mutual knowledge that it blooms best in private. There's nothing damning about _that_ , right? Maybe it's because of the unlikely thread that has connected them from the start, from before Aang even knew him, much less called him a friend. He tries not to think of destiny, except it's hard not to when it puts the steadfast friendship of someone whose mission it was to destroy him, right in his lap. A lifelong friendship, he's sure of the fact.

The sound of the pen hitting the desk, starkly loud, brings him back to Earth.

"I don't know if I can do it," Zuko says suddenly, letting his head fall into his hand. Aang startles and sits up. "It's been years - we're making progress. I don't know what they _want._ " He sighs roughly and scowls. "Ugh, is it even _worth it_ to negotiate with a dying industry- I should just quit this project-"

" _Zuko_ ," Aang says.

There are a lot of moments like this, when Aang clamps every corner of his mind shut, so he doesn't say something stupid, do something stupid, to make Zuko understand the bottomless reserve of Aang's trust in him and his ability. Saying it would probably anger him more right now. It's part of Zuko's process.

Instead, he catches Zuko's wrist. There's a small mark there. One of the long days they had spent holed up in a makeshift Republic City penthouse, filing through papers and scrolls and decrees and letters by night, having tedious meetings with politicians of every ilk by day - all to get the United Republic configured and working. Aang had been bringing tea, and in his sleepless stupor, had managed to spill it right over Zuko's papers on the floor. By the time he caught himself and bended it off the documents, a splash had already hit Zuko.

He squeezes that wrist. "Don't be stupid," he says shortly.

Zuko nudges him but Aang doesn't let it go. He snaps, "What?"

"You're not alone because you feel like that. Sometimes I still want to run away from it all too."

"It's different - people don't abhor the Avatar."

"They don't abhor you either, Zuko. Well, most of them. But they don't know you so it doesn't matter."

"Easy for you to say that so casually."

"The bottom line is, people put their faith in me. They need me. And they sure as hell need _you_ ," Aang says. "You have the most important job and I promise there's no one that could do it better." He loosens his grip and slides his palm until it's flat over Zuko's, who doesn't seem to notice that he's automatically opening for the touch. Zuko's skin is warm, the smooth flesh that doesn't yield a sliver of what his friend has been through, unlike other parts of him. "No one else knows the mentality of the Fire Nation more intimately. No one else is better equipped to change it."

It's a well-trodden speech, but not a necessary one. Zuko will come to his senses of his own accord soon enough. Still, it bothers Aang to see him frustrated. He doesn't realise how quiet his voice has gotten.

Zuko holds his gaze. "Thanks," he says quietly. Then he coughs and takes away his hand. "I guess. I need to write this," he says, as a dismissal.

Aang smiles but his heart is jumping under his robes. He hopes, as ever, that he hasn't overstepped.

* * *

The next couple of days go by so slowly. Aang feels strangely incapacitated on a ship after so long, without Appa; and even more so without Katara, given that he had hardly seen her during the week before (a Water Tribe practice that her whole party insisted they follow). They're _married_. He doesn't feel that at all. He spends the time doing rounds around the ship - flying high above with his glider with nothing but ocean for miles. It keeps his head clear even more than meditation does; endless, timeless water. He knows it's going to be chaos once they land. Zuko is strangely quiet too, keeping to himself, scribbling letters or reading. Aang knows when not to disrupt him - his moods have always come and gone.

On what is hopefully the last day before they land, the sky is completely clear. Aang wakes just before dawn. It's already warmer on this side of the continent, before they've even reached land. Up on the deck, the air is humid.

He spots Zuko leaning against the edge of a railing. His shoulders are loose under the rich, red sleep tunic. His hair, however, is in the proper style. Aang flicks the little crown pinning it together when he reaches him. The small _ping_ it makes alerts Zuko to his presence. "Good morning," he says. "You don't feel like getting dressed?"

Zuko comes back down to Earth from wherever he was and shakes his head in mock irritation. "It's not even six, Aang." And then, "How did you sleep?"

Aang shrugs. "Eh. I've been seasick."

Zuko sighs. "Me too. We're getting too used to being airborne," he muses.

Aang pipes up suddenly. "I know! Let's spar. We haven't done that in ages. I don't get to practice my firebending enough these days."

Zuko, surprisingly, says, "Sure. Let's go."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he repeats. He's smirking now. "What, are you scared?"

Now they're talking. Aang pouts in reply before leading the way out to the clearing on the scant deck. He puffs out his chest. "The Avatar? Scared?"

He yelps and kicks out of the way in a blast of air when Zuko aims at him without warning. "Hey! You're not even in the proper stance!"

"The Avatar needs warning before an attack?" Zuko drawls, shifting into position this time. He's fast. Aang had forgotten how fast, and he just manages to defend, throwing quick blasts of fire whenever he gets the chance.

It's a good workout. Aang is sweating within minutes, on his toes constantly. It's easy to fall into a rhythm, like they used to do.

"See," Zuko yells over his continuous streams of fire, feeding a rolling sheet of flame now. It crashes towards Aang like a wave. "You should show a little deference to your firebending master," he says, panting.

Aang sprints and shoots right up above it. "Nah."

"You're cheating, anyway," Zuko says, nodding towards Aang hovering a foot off the deck. There's no real accusation behind it, after all, he's only proving his own aptitude.

Aang scoots and lands behind him. "Just using all my resources," - he dodges another blast, engulfing the next one with his own - "I miss this," he yells. "No one in Republic City ever really brings their best to me. Too much reverence for the Avatar, I guess," he muses.

"Sounds misguided," Zuko remarks, eyes twinkling. Aang has him backed up towards the wooden taffrail.

Aang laughs, suddenly really breathless. He follows Zuko almost mindlessly to the edge, leaning over it ever so casually. "Is this cheating, too?" A flick of his fingers over the rail, and a long stream of water hits Zuko right in the face.

Zuko doesn't jump. He just stares at Aang, pure disdain written across his face.

This never gets old. But Zuko makes a gruff noise, and he pins Aang against the rail in an instant, arm locked behind his back. Aang struggles but Zuko is strong. He's had way more actual fighting training than Aang ever did.

"New rule," Zuko breathes, his feet apart, steadier than the floor beneath them. "Since you clearly can't seem to stick with just firebending, let's get rid of them all. Hand to hand combat. You never know when you'll need it."

Aang stops trying to wriggle out of his grip. "Okay," he says, twisting his head around so his eyes are levelled to Zuko's. "If that's how you want to play." He ducks out under the arc of Zuko's arm, pinning the weight Zuko has on his wrists right back onto him. It's almost enough, except that Aang doesn't have the space to create a strong stance, to bear down his weight. He wobbles and falls back, spinning air before he can hit the floor.

"I said _no bending_ ," Zuko says, exasperated.

Aang lowers himself gently onto the floor. He scratches his head, looking sheepishly up at Zuko. "Sorry," he blinks. "Didn't want to fall on my butt." He can't help but be ecstatic at how ruffled Zuko finally looks: his sleeves are rolled haphazardly, his hair is wet and half out of its hold, he even forgot to dry off. The thought is hilarious for some reason. Aang smiles up sunnily.

Zuko grumbles; looks up and away before glancing back. His body is rigid, clearly done with Aang's antics and the sparring. He is breathing hard, though, even as he rolls his eyes.

Aang jumps up and slings an arm around him. "Breakfast?"

He's extremely aware of how sweaty they are, how Zuko's heart is pounding from the adrenaline, just like his. They really haven't done this in so long. Aang's forgotten how to manage it.

They find nuts and dried food in the storeroom below deck; not wanting to bother anyone this early. The few members of the crew that aren't asleep are probably just ending their night shift.

Zuko finally seems normal again, not a trace of the stress from the first night on board. He's peeling apart a peach on the table. The action is intensely concentrated, a delightful contrast to his wonky hairpiece.

Aang smiles.

He couldn't - he _wouldn't_. Never, ever, because of Katara, not in a million billion years, if she even said a word. He knows there isn't anything wrong with the way he _feels_. The monks said it was possible - and he even saw it, when they would come around during festival seasons - the clans of air nomads who were not sworn to temples often lived like that. There were families of every size, shifting, changing, not set in pairs but not aimlessly thrown together, either. They had bonds.

But there aren't any more air nomads. And it is laughable, really, how far-fetched the idea is. He can't _keep_ Zuko, he's the head of a nation.

"What are you gonna do when we land?" Zuko asks. "After the assurances and the kissing babies, I mean."

Aang furrows his brows. "I don't know what they'll want to put me up to, but I have an idea." He sits up and swirls his tea with a finger held carefully above it. "There's gotta be something going on down there," he says. "Massive earthquakes like this don't just happen for no reason."

"Spirits, you mean."

"I'm pretty sure."

"Are you going to look for it in Daoshu - whatever it is?"

Aang nods. "I have a feeling I might have to go into the Spirit World, though. Nothing with that much power would stick around in this realm."

Zuko gives him a skeptical look across the rounded table. "Good luck with that."

"Just because you don't have a spiritual bone in your body," Aang says over a sip.

Zuko scoffs. "I just don't think I'd want the pleasure of dealing with a creature that can cause thousands of deaths over what's probably a temper tantrum."

Aang considers this. "I guess I don't envy you, either." Zuko's words from the first day come to mind.

He's met with a small smile across the table. It's a win, at the end of their journey. "Well it's good that we stick to our own jobs, then."


	3. Chapter 3

_Dealing with the tribe's elders is - to put it bluntly - beyond exhausting. Katara has been back for hardly a month when she notices their attention on her take a decidedly patronising turn._

 _At first, they're enthusiastic. She and Sokka are treated with almost as much respect as the returned war prisoners. There is a celebration every other day, as families slowly piece back together. They are in awe of the boy and the girl who have travelled the whole world from their tiny village to aid the Avatar. There are presents and letters from children and adult tribesmen alike, invitations to feasts, both from the Southern Water Tribe and beyond. The elders treat her with an almost hypnotic sense of awe which they're clearly unused to reserving for a fifteen-year-old girl._

 _Very clearly - because over time this awe turns from genuine to befuddled to irate, in a matter of weeks, when they notice how much input Katara really wants in her tribe's larger matters._

 _Sokka, she can't help but notice, does not get the same treatment._

 _It becomes an uphill battle, one that she is only more willing to fight with every flippant dismissal she receives._

 _A meeting over how to reintegrate relations with the Northern Tribe, gain advice and provisions particularly with regards to bending, takes a turn when Sokka falls ill and requests he must be replaced by his sister. She's the only waterbender in their tribe, how fitting. And how appropriate that the weekly reports establishing the new Imperial Reparations Operation go through Hakoda's home for advice. Perhaps someone lives there who has first-hand experience with Fire Nation ongoings?_

 _Aang, between marathon penguin sledding sessions, is equal parts annoyed and thoughtful over the matter. He's treated the best out of any of them - though he doesn't seem to notice. Aang's current stage of post-Ozai vacationing, after lounging in the Fire Palace and Iroh's Ba Sing Se tea shop for a few weeks each, seems to solely involve entertaining the Tribe's children._

 _Of course, the Avatar is never really off duty. But Katara is more than pleased by the light load for him, would do anything in her power to keep it that way even as she herself wants to get involved in bigger matters._

 _"Zuko," Aang says one evening, leaning his back against an icy wall while tending to the white-hot fire in front of him. "You should write to Zuko. He complains about pretty much the same stuff you do."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"He said the palace staff is like that, and some of the generals, the ones not in jail. Obviously not as snobby as-" He lowers his voice, " -the elders, 'cause they don't wanna get tried for treason." Sokka on his other side barks a laugh, legs kicked up over a cushion. "But he says he can tell they don't think he's equipped for the job. That he's too soft."_

 _"Well what else do you expect from Fire Lord Ozai's mooks," Sokka grumbles._

 _Katara considers this. To tell the truth, she has thought about talking to Zuko. But there hasn't been a proper opening. They're friends but they're not - not like Aang is with him. Zuko is twelve kinds of awkward and it spreads to her; he's also the person who has witnessed the most she has ever revealed about her mother and the raid. It makes their small talk really weird._

 _Still, later that night, she takes a pen and parchment over Gran-Gran's desk. She writes five different first sentences, hands sweaty, before she finds one that she's happy with._

 _Surely trying to gripe about condescending adults shouldn't be this hard?_

* * *

When Katara arrives in Daoshu the scene is hectic. Her party is separated off almost immediately after a brief couple of hours meeting with the Mayor and the physicians in the capital of Daoshu City. They catch the tail end of the crucial period of rescue, just over a day or so after the event.

Out of the towns affected, it's not the capital but Bakai, a populous town eastward, that has by far taken the brunt of the damage. It's ramshackle, much poorer than its neighbour thanks to Daoshu City's silver mines. Extensive tracts of it have practically collapsed, according to the guide briefing them. Katara asks to be posted there.

The change is painfully evident flying across the boundary. The destruction caused to Daoshu's sturdy stone landscapes, and even its coastal clay villages was already well on its way to being cleared. From Appa's back, she could see the search and rescue teams, all earthbenders, like pinpricks rearranging rubble and tirelessly lifting scraps into heaps. When they cross over to Bakai it's a different story. Half of it is dense rainforest, and accordingly, the inhabitants, loggers and farmers and occasional factory workers, have built their residences out of wood and bamboo. Ones which currently sit shattered and splintered. Katara wants to look away, but she knows she can't.

The accompanying storm surge wreaked havoc, drowning hundreds. No waterbenders nearby means they had suffered worse.

With how thick the clouds have become, it's about an hour until they reach the coastal port town with the most injuries. Katara lies between the two other healers with her on Appa's saddle, trying to get a scrap of rest before the work starts.

When they land, the place is crowded and chaotic. There was no question that she would drop her honeymoon for this, not even for a moment, and here, there _isn't_ a moment to breathe. Patient after patient is brought to her in the main hospital, and the surrounding temporary tents. It's well past midnight when she gets a break. The scant few waterbending healers, along with non-bender physicians, are taking long shifts to tend to the worst affected victims, waiting for more help to arrive from the North. Katara steels herself mentally for the days of intense work ahead.

* * *

Days and nights fly by with only healing on Katara's mind. A few days later, after Aang and Zuko must have landed, she gets word from the council house that Aang is coming to Bakai by afternoon, stopping only briefly in Daoshu's port to drop Zuko off and give some blanket reassurances about his plan to the Mayor. Katara has a vague idea of what that must mean. Bakai is above the epicentre of the earthquake. Aang must be thinking of going straight to see what's going on in the Spirit World.

An aftershock this morning, though not as terrible as the ones her fellow hospital workers said they experienced on the first night, had managed to destabilise the survivors' camps even further. Now the council in Daoshu is posting earthbenders - members of the police guard, firefighters, even volunteers - throughout the city, to manage what they can on the spot. Bakai, with its wooden structures, is not managing as well. Katara hopes against hope that Aang can find a way to stop the aftershocks, or at least figure out what's going on.

The usual cause for disasters like this are simply chalked down to nature, yet ones this big have people whispering. In the scrolls and tales Katara had read as a child there was always a bigger culprit for a catastrophe - a spiritual disturbance from an angry creature, god or ghost. A moody Spirit can be handled, unlike a freak natural disturbance.

Aang arrives late in the evening when Katara is finishing up her second round of healing in the tents. She's figured out that broken bones and deep lacerations - the things that can't be mended in one session - still benefit from healing twice a day. It's sped up the turnover considerably; the more people they can get out of the hospitals, the more they can bring in from the tents. The site manager Akash, a harried council worker, is particularly awestruck by the way she rearranges their schedules according to this principle.

She sees Aang just as she leaves the main tent, finally shrugging her medical robe off and stretching.

"Aang! Over here!" she waves, jumping up - he's far off, with Akash excitedly talking to him and pointing Aang in her direction.

"Katara!" He runs the moment his eyes lock on her, and they catch each other in a long hug. It feels good. She presses her tired hands against his neck.

"Katara! I was just asking around for you." He kisses her, almost spins her around in the air.

Katara breathlessly stops him - this isn't the diligent healer her fellow workers are used to. But it doesn't matter - Aang is here, and it feels like a very earned break just to see his face. She leans back, "How was the journey? Did you leave- "

Akash trails them. He clears his throat. "Master Katara," he says. "We've moved you to larger quarters for the time being, if you wish to stay with Avatar Aang," he bows deeply in a way that makes her feel faintly embarrassed at the adolescent show she and Aang just put on.

"Thank you," she says earnestly, while Aang putters around behind her. She takes his hand a little more discreetly. "Aang, come on. I know a place where we can eat."

She leads him to a little cafe up a hill, higher than the campsite. It's relatively unscathed compared to the scene below. One of her healers, Ina, had told her about it the day before - somewhere to get hot tea without milk, which it was strangely hard to do in this part of the Earth Kingdom. Ina had gotten the weirdest look from their patient while she was recounting her meal to Katara.

"Normally, I would just go to the food tents," Katara says, swishing the door open. "But since you're here, and we didn't really get to be together after the wedding, so think of it like-"

"Honeymooning," Aang says with a dopey smile.

Katara nods and sits, and lets the waiter take their order.

She smiles at Aang but it doesn't quite hold - she's covering a yawn with her hand before she knows it. The flurry of the last few days feels like it's catching up to her - suddenly being married after weeks of planning is one thing, and then this.

"It's such a tragedy," she says quietly to the table.

"Yeah." Aang sighs loudly, making the petals of the flowers in the middle of the table billow around. They're drooping, probably days old.

"It would be nice to get a couple of days alone," Katara says, for the sake of having said it.

Aang blinks heavily up at her, eyes glossy with tiredness. The sight is rare but easy to pinpoint - a look he only gets when scouring around the Spirit World for something. That place always has a way of amplifying whatever Aang seems to be feeling.

"Well, duty calls," he says, with a smile.

"Perks of having the Avatar as your boyfriend, I guess," Katara says with a long-suffering sigh, teasingly crossing her arms.

"Husband," Aang says dumbly, startled - she gasps and covers her mouth before giggling. "I was talking about you, anyway."

"Huh?"

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't always come to help people in need," Aang says easily. His voice is gentle, reverent; like a kid.

Katara blinks. She's heard this spiel about her many times from many people, spun both like a good thing and a bad one. But Aang always manages to catch her off guard, stating it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," she says, suddenly warm in the cheeks. "Right."

She brings her single, long braid over her shoulder and begins to pick it apart. "Did you make any progress today? I mean, I heard on the radio you met with the Mayor of Daoshu City."

Aang sits up and nods. "Yeah," he says. "I think I've figured out what's going on. Have you heard of the namazu?"

Katara narrows her eyes in thought before shaking her head.

"Well, I knew it had to be something that lives around the land boundary since that's where the earthquake happened. And once I got into the Spirit World I was asking around. It's a spirit that apparently lives - just off the shore, relative to where we are. Underground."

"That's how it can shake the earth? It must be _massive_."

Aang nods. "And probably angry."

"What are you gonna do? I mean, the earthquake's over."

Aang shrugs. "Talk to it, I guess. It's possible that we can still stop any more aftershocks. And at least people will know."

Katara nods, combing her freed hair with her fingers. She watches a morose expression cross Aang's face. "What?"

Aang's voice is quiet. "I don't know if it's worse to know, though - that people you love can die from something so pointless? It doesn't change anything."

Katara steels herself. "Of course it does. I mean, Akash was telling me that the records show they have been long overdue for a big earthquake. Even if we can't control the whims of giant Spirits, the more we know the better we can equip ourselves, always."

"You're right," Aang says. He looks tired.

To change the subject, Katara says, "So, is Zuko coming?"

He perks up at this. "Yup. Tomorrow. Are you excited to see him?"

"I didn't even get to catch up with him properly at the wedding!" Katara says. "It's been so long."

Aang looks pensive again, but not sad. He tilts his head in his hand. "You know, I miss him."

"Me too," she says, trying to make her voice unreadable. "We haven't been to stay at the palace in forever."

Aang raises his eyebrows. "Do you wanna? After all this is over?"

Katara laughs. "Honeymoon at Zuko's?" Aang's face turns red for a delightful second before Katara says, "Sure."

"I-I mean, as long as we're not interfering with anything. It's a little crazy over there, from what he said. He's stressed out." Aang frowns.

"Well, the presence of the Avatar could always lend a helping hand to crazy," Katara says.

"Not if the Avatar just wants to lie on the beach."

"I'd like to see the Fire Lord lie on the beach."

"What?" Aang says.

"T-to take a day off, I mean. Because of what you said. Take time off to lie on the beach."

"Oh."

Why is _Aang_ the one blushing? Katara takes a deep breath but it spills out with more laughter.

She's clearly tired. Wondering idly about her stupid teenage crush on her broody friend, while trying to have a proper conversation with her boyfriend (husband) is maybe not the best idea.

Aang laughs too, but it's fumbly and strange.

Thank every Spirit that their food happens to arrive then, two shallow bowls of steaming rice and sauteed vegetables. All conversation is forgotten and they eat quietly, quickly. Katara can't help but order the fresh fish on top of that - because let's face it, Republic City's imports do _not_ taste the same as the net-caught stuff in the village. Two rounds of tea - the normal, and the local milky one - finish their night off.

Afterwards, Katara takes him to her new quarters - a whole tent. Though smaller and significantly damper than the room she shared in one of the council buildings with the other healers, it feels big, bigger than her world has been in days. She makes a mental note to thank Akash again as she gets ready for bed.

She curls one arm over Aang's chest and is asleep within a matter of minutes.

* * *

The next day is much the same as the previous two. By now, more healers have arrived from the Northern Water Tribe as well as supplies from Ba Sing Se. Things are rolling. The physicians' faces look lighter. Katara finds time to make a few rounds of the apothecaries. Most of her training is suitably in bending, but she's always been eager to understand what the whole package of care is like for her patients. Especially as she gets to know them.

Aang hangs around for most of the day because his access to the Spirit World is delayed by heavy monsoon rain that clatters on every surface and then some. It makes it hard for Katara to concentrate on healing, let alone the concentration required for meditating into a parallel world. Katara smiles to herself when she walks past a hallway to catch him doing all manner of silly airbending tricks, to the children's delight.

That night, they're invited to dinner with the Mayor of Bakai and the newly arrived Fire Lord. The Mayor takes them to a swanky hotel cafe in a small but luxurious area of town, high up in the hills. The Mayor, though admirably well-spoken about their current situation, seems a little too eager to please. He keeps showering them with praise, expressing his gratitude for their help with every other sentence.

By the time dessert comes around, he seems to have forgotten the earthquake completely. He keeps talking about "building bridges between our nations" and "the honour of such a special visit" and his plans for an interrail to the Earth Kingdom capital, then to Republic City (isn't technology evolving _so_ fast?), and could they possibly spare a moment to take a picture with him in front of his office?

Aang's pleasant smile becomes more forced with every minute and Katara gives his palm a pointed pinch under the table; Zuko across from her looks outright uncomfortable. When the Mayor excuses himself to go pay, making a show of it, Katara finally exhales.

"Wow," she says. "He's going to be pitching an idea to build a new country with you in the next hour or so."

"Another hour?" Aang says, making a fainting motion. "Eh, he's just excited. They probably don't get many big names in a province like this."

Zuko fidgets. "I don't think he should be thinking about a new rail system when there are still people half dead."

Katara winces at the wording and receives a grimace of apology. She's the one tending to them.

Zuko continues, "And yeah, what's this unity nonsense? What does he think we've been trying to do for the past ten years? Aang?"

"I agree," Aang says. "And relax, Your Highness, you're the only man I'd build a nation with," he adds sunnily.

"That's not-" Zuko starts, but Katara and Aang are already dissolving into laughter. Zuko coughs stubbornly and raises his chin. It makes Katara want to smooth the fabric on his shoulders.

She looks at Aang who is grinning, blushing red; it reminds her of the night before. What is going on with him? He straightens out and reddens even more when he catches her looking at him.

Oh, whatever. She can't really follow that train of thought without incriminating herself.

She clears her throat, "I get where he's coming from, though it's a little much." A waiter clears her plate away, and she uses the space to put her elbows on the table. "Between Ba Sing Se and Republic City, I can see why people here are starting to feel a little… small town. Before, you were either nobility or you weren't, but now… well you guys know what the ministers in the United Republic are like."

Aang appears thoughtful at this, but Zuko looks right at her. "How do you think the Water Tribes fit here?"

"I don't know, the village at home is kind of the same as ever. But we're old fashioned in a way, and secluded." She gestures vaguely towards him. "Same with the Fire Nation, I'm sure. But here - on the Earth continent - I don't know, things seem to be changing."

"I hope it's for the better," Zuko says, and Katara feels herself and Aang nod, absently.

The Mayor returns for another round of platitudes for them. "If you don't mind," he says, as they finally get up, "I would be most humbled to show the Avatar some of my scroll collections - just next door, in the town hall."

"Just the Avatar?" Zuko enquires, with a much too hopeful smirk towards Aang.

"Oh you're welcome to join us but I assume you must be tired after your travel," he says.

"I am, thank you," Zuko says, at the same time that Katara bows quickly and mutters, "I have to be getting to the hospital, night shift."

The Mayor bows deeply to Katara while Aang glares murder behind him. "Your service is of utmost importance in our time of need."

And just like that, Katara is alone with Zuko for the first time in a long time.

Zuko smiles. "Do you... uh, want to walk?"

"Sure," Katara says, "I'll show you the route down to the guesthouses. How to avoid the wet parts."

It feels strange to be side by side with him after so long. He looks different than last time; his hair longer in a ponytail than the regal knotted style he had worn at the wedding. Katara feels like she's stealing glances at his face, his posture, his air.

"How's everything?" Zuko says, holding the door open.

She steps through it and simply enjoys the fact of what they're about to do. Katara has always enjoyed conversation. The freeing feeling in her chest rises to the surface even before they start talking - the release that comes with discussing the tempestuous mix of thoughts and feelings about family and war and every big topic under the sun that seems to get unearthed whenever she is with Zuko.

Katara takes his hand. It's been too long since they had a heart to heart.


	4. Chapter 4

_"I've got it," Katara says. She holds the unremarkable little water pouch with both hands, folding her legs under her thick winter skirt. Zuko kneels mirroring her, unsure of what to do with his hands._

 _It has to be the stupidly cold air that makes him want to lean to her._

 _They're not… they're not best friends or anything. Not like he and Aang have become._

 _He isn't sure what they are._

 _"Are you ready?"_

 _Zuko stares at the pouch. They're in an ice hut, a spare reception room in the guest quarters of the Northern Water Tribe palace. A diplomatic event has brought them together for the first time in a while. Zuko gets invited to very few of these - something Uncle says will take a lot of time to improve - so he has all the reason to make sure to go to every single one, even if he feels like his limbs will never defrost from this particular event. It's not even a full two years since the war ended, so he knows this counts as making progress._

 _Though, he can't help but think how much the person sitting in front of him has to do with his presence here. The Water Tribes have been taking to each other quickly since the end of the war, and Katara had been instrumental in ensuring that they also looked outside their borders for collaboration._

 _Zuko looks around the walls. No - he won't risk melting anything just for his comfort. Last time he was up here - well. He had been destructive enough. It's funny how blind motivation can make you heedless of anything else, including sub-zero temperatures._

 _"Zuko?"_

 _Right. The scar. His scar._

 _They've talked about it before - way, way before actually. And they've talked about it to death in the span of the last couple of days. Katara said that the water from the Spirit Oasis here is different, and special in some way. That it might be able to heal his scar._

 _They don't have long. Zuko's entourage is leaving tonight, and they still have to go to the closing party in the evening._

 _"I'm ready," he says. Of course he is. It's about time he -_

 _Katara narrows her eyes before raising her hand to tilt his face just slightly. Zuko lets her, his train of thought lost. The touch is surprisingly light for her determined stance._

 _"Okay. So, right now?" Katara says. Her voice is strangely deflated._

 _Zuko releases his breath. "Yeah."_

 _The hand on his cheek is cool, almost irritating in how delicately it sweeps across the scar - yet nothing but a prickling warmth seeps into Zuko's skin at the touch._

 _This is what he wants. This is what he's wanted for years._

 _Satisfied with the inspection of her subject, Katara flips up the clasp of the leather pouch and draws out a stream of water._

 _"Wait." The words are out before Zuko even realises he's opened his mouth. "Wait - maybe not - "_

 _"Huh?" Katara looks up, eyes wide, catching the droplets at the last second._

 _Zuko looks away, not wanting to meet her eyes._

 _What's he supposed to say? How could he lose his resolve about this at the last moment?_

 _He stares at the carvings in the wall above her head - geometric, yet just as ornate as any back home. "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm sorry I asked."_

 _"Me neither," Katara sighs immediately. Zuko is surprised at the relief in her voice. He relaxes without realising, and the slump of her shoulders, too, is palpable. But he doesn't have time to acknowledge it before her arms are flying around his shoulders._

 _Zuko pats her back awkwardly._

 _"It's - I'm sorry I kind of wasted your time."_

 _Katara shakes her head vigorously as she releases him. "I know you thought you wanted to get rid of it," she says, impassioned. "But it's everything you've been through, Zuko. It's what makes you_ you. _"_

 _She lets him go only to clasp his face again. This time, there's no reason behind it, and Zuko, unthinkingly, leans into it as much as she does._

 _"If you didn't have that scar from the Fire Nation, you would never have come to us. We would never have even met you."_

 _Funny - someone else said the same thing to him last year._

 _Katara releases his face - and Zuko his breath - her hand landing loosely over his. "Do you mind if I ask…? How did you... ?" The question dies on her lips as she meets his eyes._

 _Her eyes are big and glossy in the low light of their shelter, the icy blueness everywhere reflecting back into them, the only thing in this room._

 _Zuko clears his throat. He blinks hard and steels himself. She deserves to know the rest._

 _Katara has never pried, something he had not expected even after she had revealed to him her own history with the Fire Nation. Aang, he's surprised to realise from her words, has never told her the details, though he's been well aware of them since not long after the coronation. He feels a pang of affection for them both._

 _They won't see each other again for who knows how long. "Okay," he says, voice already harder. "You should sit."_

 _Katara slowly sits back onto her heels. She doesn't let go of his hand._

* * *

Zuko wakes to the distant sound of street vendors. He blinks in surprise before remembering he's in Daoshu City, in the guesthouse of the province's government. In comparison, the Fire Nation Royal Palace is starkly quiet each morning, alone in that crater and far away from the hubbub of the people it governs. He thinks vaguely about doing something about that as he gets dressed to leave for the day's meetings.

He has what he thinks is a pretty good idea for what they can do regarding the reconstructions. He's already written to Uncle about it, and he's drafted Kaon a letter, ready to be sent with adjustments as soon as they fine-tune it in the Daoshu Province Council meeting today.

The metalworkers back home are agitated mainly for one reason: Zuko shut down half the armouries and foundries within months his coronation. Without weapons to make, and most remaining workshops diverted to shipbuilding and locomotives, people are angry. He can't in good conscience keep using the royal budget to shower them the same way the Empire did for weapons, but it's also an open secret that the Fire Nation already has more ships than they will ever need.

Here though, they could make a real difference. There's a desperate need to rebuild Daoshu and the reconstruction of the province, sadly, is going to take years. It's not a permanent solution for their troubles but it's the best Zuko has at the moment.

Inside the meeting room of Daoshu's Main Hall - a barren building that looks like it might have once been modelled after Ba Sing Se's highest quarters - Zuko is joined by the Mayor, a dozen local councillors (familiar faces by now), architects, designers and even tradesmen. These meetings have to last for hours and hours - harried scribes writing down pledges and timelines and expenses in every direction, mapmakers and planners and scouts discussing back and forth, trying to make out the sheer scale of the damage. The discussions are balanced out with breaks for pleasantries and food and drink, but the day saps Zuko's energy. It's dense, long-winded, and it's probably a logistical nightmare for every poor person that's working closely on the ground.

He thinks of Katara.

The bells that signify the end of the day's negotiations ring long after Zuko's stomach is roiling with hunger. The intensity of the discussion that had occured after Zuko's offer was put on the table meant food breaks had become unwittingly sidelined. He knows a bland provincial meal awaits him in his quarters, but he can't help but be pleased with the progress.

"It's decided," the Mayor announces as the sun begins to set. "In addition to the material shipments, Fire Lord Zuko has generously promised to provide us with the skilled labour, and many specialists," she bows deeply across the long table. "We're grateful for your support."

Zuko stands to meet her gesture, gives an awkward half-smile, hoping that it looks somewhat appropriate. He isn't sure what the right balance is here. He doesn't want to be so stoic that he seems unfriendly. Still, despite its conclusion, not everyone at this table has been happy with the direction of this week's meetings, and anything he does will probably seem patronising to them. Nevertheless, his offer has been accepted and that feels like progress.

It's his duty, he knows, to be here in person like this. He has to set these precedents.

If the triumphant spring in his step makes his ride back a little too fun, well, only Druk has to know.

* * *

Two more days pass with Zuko signing off a dozen contracts and pledges. On Sokka's suggestion (via Katara's correspondence), messages are sent to Ba Sing Se to be relayed by telegraph. It cuts the delivery time down considerably. There are already cable lines to the Fire Nation Royal Palace, courtesy of the White Lotus and a couple of very ornate machines owned by Uncle ("new technology is the best way to share old wisdom, Zuko"). The faster correspondence means arrangements are well underway.

With all of that rolling, Zuko takes a long afternoon off at the end of his first week in Daoshu. He's planning on doing nothing except taking Druk out for a long ride into the darkening sky. Being cooped up in a dense, bustling town, hardly meant for dragons, isn't doing him any good.

Zuko could do with some fresh air and solitude himself.

The work itself in Daoshu hasn't been hard, although it's tiring. The circumstances, however - the people he's with - have stirred a kind of doubt in him that Zuko hadn't realised could still be so overwhelming.

Aang and Katara. Seeing them after so long. Together, and apart.

The wedding.

He swallows, putting on his boots. Every time he closes his eyes, every night since then, he sees it without fail. The beach, the breeze circling the dress and the drapings, Katara's teary smiles and Aang's exhilarated ones.

It's not - it _can't_ be normal to feel this way about it, right? He doesn't even know _what_ he feels, except that he's not _upset_ \- not really -

They've always been a thing, in one way or another, probably long before Zuko got to know them. That's not what bothers him. Aang is Aang - Zuko can't put to words, even for himself, how their lives have intertwined, and how much meaning it has for him. And if the alertness Zuko has always felt around Katara changed into something warmer and brighter, if no less reverent, over the years, he can deal with that, too.

Or he thought he could. He's never felt left out, not really. But now they're _married._

Zuko swaps his formal tunic out for something warm and sturdy he can fly in. Working with them, seeing them so regularly, right after attending the wedding, is more aggravating than he thought it would be. It only reminds him of one thing -

He's lost his chance to say something.

Not that he's ever had one.

He knows what his issue is. But it's stupid, and he's stupid to spend so much time just uselessly thinking about it.

Zuko forgoes the cloak. Even high up, it's blissfully warm out here.

He thinks Aang might have understood. Maybe even clarified it more than he can himself. But Water Tribe custom is as strict as the Fire Nation, and he can't risk the misunderstanding. If there's one thing about Katara he feels more deeply than their connection - their shared loss and their shared resolve - it's her protectiveness over Aang.

He just needs to _stop_ thinking about it.

When Zuko reaches the courtyard behind his quarters where Druk sleeps, he's surprised to see a familiar furry face next to his dragon's.

Appa gives a happy grunt of acknowledgement to Zuko. Aang slides off his back, his feet landing with a thud. "Fire Lord! Long day?"

"Aang? What are you doing here?" Zuko ducks out of the reach of Appa's friendly greeting with a laugh. He just wasn't expecting any guests. These are the only warm-ish clothes he's brought, it wouldn't be great to have sky bison saliva all over them already.

"I thought I'd come and see how you're doing," Aang says. "How're the negotiations going?" He smiles widely and walks straight into Zuko's arms for a quick hug, and Zuko, as always, returns it warmly.

 _Stop thinking._

"Decent," he says. "Really well, actually. We've figured out what kind of reinforcements and materials to bring over. I've put Uncle in charge of arranging everything back at home. Remember what I told you about the metalworkers? I think we can kill two birds with one stone."

Aang nods along to Zuko's words with understanding. His face, however, is distracted. Tainted with worry.

"Are you okay?" Zuko says, "How's the spirit search?"

Aang doesn't answer his question, just hums and nods, eyeing Zuko's attire head to toe, "You're going for a ride?"

"Oh - " Zuko follows his gaze, suddenly feeling awkward. "Yeah. Do you wanna join me?"

Maybe Aang wants to be distracted. It certainly seems like it. He leaps back onto Appa, leading the way, out of the built up area, hovering mid-air for Druk and Zuko to catch up.

High above the city, the light breeze turns into wind. Zuko glances across at Aang on Appa's back. He's scanning the scenery, a hand up above his eyes to shield them from the glaring sun.

"I know a cool place out here," Zuko yells over the rush of the wind in his ears. It feels good to be up above, away from the bustle of the city for the first time in days. "Follow me."

He guides Druk to an outcrop on the side of the mountain - a sweeping, even range that walls the northernmost border of the province. It's nothing like the foreboding grey-black mountains that he's used to at home, but the lush greenery is its own kind of wonder. He doesn't look back, he knows that Aang will be close behind. They land in a swirl of dust, Zuko guiding Druk by his reins.

"Look," he says, when Appa settles next to them.

Aang bounces up onto his feet on the saddle, as tall as Druk's crouched face, and follows Zuko's gaze. "Woah." He turns back with wide eyes. Zuko's chest warms instantly at the sight.

Below them, sloping sheets of green are fading in the twilight. Daoshu City and its surrounding villages sit at the bottom of them, lit up like tiny clustered pinpricks in the distance. They glitter like stars, as if they're reflecting the darkening sky above.

Aang laughs brightly. Zuko basks in his wonder, smiling into his sleeve. Well - it shouldn't be _that_ interesting for someone used to flying, but still, Aang already looks way happier. The twinkling lights here in the Earth Kingdom cities are still unparalleled by anything anywhere else. It's the style of the cities, the way they sprawl outwards like veins, so unlike the walled-in towns of the Fire Nation.

"Zuko, this view is beautiful," Aang says. He sighs, sitting back down, scratching Appa's fur. "Do you think Republic City will look like this one day?"

Zuko makes a noise of disbelief. "Nah. It'll be much bigger. It might even be bigger than Ba Sing Se," he says. He joins Aang in simply admiring the view for a moment. "You know, the council thinks this earthquake is going to trigger a lot of people leaving. To Republic City, mostly."

"Are you worried about that? "

"I don't know. I think - I mean I know now that it's up to them. People are going to do whatever they think is best for themselves. It's just that some of the people in the council bring it up - like _I_ have something to do with it -"

"That's ridiculous," Aang says plainly.

"I know. But that's what it is. They think we're meddling. And not everyone in the council agreed to our help, though they were outvoted. Some people think the Earth Kingdom shouldn't even accept aid from us."

"Do _you_ think you made the right decision?"

"Of course I do," Zuko replies. Just as instantly, a shadow of a doubt crosses him. It's annoying - just when he thinks he's thought about it from every angle. "Do you?"

Aang turns right around to face him. "I trust your judgement on this."

Well. That helps. A lot.

It's getting darker quickly. Aang turns back towards the view so that Zuko can only make out his shoulders where they block the light of the towns below. "I know it's not really comparable, but if I had done what people thought the Avatar _should_ do, instead of what I knew was right…"

Zuko glances up at the sky. "Yeah. I get it. Thanks." He takes advantage of Aang's positive mood. "How's the search going?"

Aang scrunches up his shoulders. "I've been reading up a lot, and I went into the Spirit World for a little while in these past few days. I think I'm getting close. I just hope... that I can get to the root of this before anything worse happens." He sighs a sigh long enough to send Appa's fur ruffling in the wind.

Zuko considers this. "You're doing a lot just by being here, you know. You don't know how many people down in Daoshu bring up the fact that the Avatar is working with them, especially out in Bakai where it's - uh - less polished."

He can practically feel Aang roll his eyes as he says, "We're in an earthquake zone. Nothing's _polished._ "

"Either way, you're doing wonders for morale. They need you, Aang."

"Are you jealous, Your Fieryness?"

Zuko chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Of course I am, you idiot."

Aang gives him a little smile of understanding. He says after a moment, "Or - am I just not doing anything for _your_ morale?" He pouts.

Zuko actually grunts in surprise. He _has_ to be doing this on purpose. "I'm going to kill you."

"Aw, I thought we were past all that."

"I'm not messing around," Zuko insists.

Aang is practically folded in half with laughter. "Appa! Let's get away from this evil Fire Nation overlord." He drags himself up to get a hold of the reins, "Yip yip!"

Zuko follows him, the evening wind rushing so satisfyingly around his face. This _not being stupid_ thing is going to be easier said than done.

* * *

 _Dear Zuko,_

 _How are you? Aang says you've been in council meetings all week, though I didn't push when he mentioned it. He's been way too stressed over all this namazu business. Anyway, I've got a mandated day off next week. I'm going to visit the apothecaries in town during the morning, but I was wondering if you would come down in the evening? It's been a long week. Aang probably can't join us but goodness knows I could do with seeing your face._

 _Katara_

...

 _Zuko,_

 _Congratulations on the deal you made! Everything is ready for departure tomorrow. As per the calculations the Daoshu Council sent through, we have organised a small cargo fleet of materials and three dozen metalworkers to start with. You will not believe how relieved Kaon was when I spoke to him, though I am sure you've had correspondence already._

 _I hope your friends are doing well. It's been so long since we had the company of the Avatar and friends, don't you think? Perhaps after all this is over, we will all be due for a vacation to Ember Island. Either way, I want you to come back to the Palace and spend some time with your old uncle after this. I am very proud of your work there. You know, of course, that you can always discuss any troubles with me._

 _Iroh_

 _P.s. I am so glad to see those old telegraphs getting some use. I have donated them both permanently to the royal communications division. Maybe you will bring me something state of the art from Republic City to replace them?_

...

 _To His Royal Highness Fire Lord Zuko,_

 _Everything is set, sir. I am writing to you as the second fleet is preparing to set sail. As instructed, I have attached to this letter the telegrams we have sent and received, for your personal records._

 _In your service,_

 _Kaon_

 _Deputy Chair_

 _Fire Nation High Council_

* * *

 _Kaon,_

 _Thank you for the records and for organising this council so soundly in my absence. I am grateful to you and the whole council. Keep up the great work._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Zuko_

...

 _Uncle,_

 _Thank you. I couldn't have done it without your help. Since everything is going well at home, I'll stay on for a few more weeks to make sure the operations run smoothly. You were right, it's important to be out here, helping where things are happening, even if I'm not sure about everything. About what I mentioned before - don't worry about it. I talked to Aang about it. I think I'll ask them to come with me after everything is finished here, my friends in Republic City too. I'm sure Sokka will bring something fancier than a telegraph._

 _Take care,_

 _Zuko_

 _P.S. Give Kaon a few days leave on my behalf._

...

 _Katara,_

 _I've got Druk so I'll meet you at the top of the path. Be there at six._

 _Zuko_

* * *

" _Flowers!_ Zuko!"

Zuko feels his face contorting into a scowl before he can help it. "I saw them in the market in the city. They're the ones my uncle likes. I thought they were nice."

Katara holds up the loose bouquet of night jasmines to her face and takes a deep breath. The afternoon is overcast but still so warm, making her cheeks red and her eyes glow.

"You're so - _formal_ ," she sighs. "They're lovely."

They catch up on the last week. It's obvious how hard Katara is working - there are bags under her eyes that weren't there last time, and her face, her gait, are somehow harder. He marvels at how well she seems to adjust to these schedules.

He watches her hands as they pick some of the flowers off their stems (he realises belatedly that these are not Uncle's jasmines - they're more delicate, droopy, with bright orange middles, though he thinks Katara already knows that). When she twirls one stem around another, forming the beginning of a chain, Zuko sees that the fingers of her right hand are stiff, barely moving.

"I really don't know how you do it, Zuko," she says, when he recounts the difficulty of getting the old Colonial Guard to agree to send the metalworkers to help Daoshu on the Earth Kingdom's terms.

"Yeah. Thankfully my Uncle and the councillors handled it in person, but it's so… _annoying_. I don't know how they think they can just keep doing what they were before. The world's changed."

She scoffs. "Well. That's the Fire Nation for you."

"It's my job to make sure that's _not_ the Fire Nation, not in the future," Zuko says with a huff of frustration.

"You're the only person I trust with that job," Katara says firmly, turning to him. She puts her hand over his, "and you're doing great."

Zuko swallows. She seems to have realised how flippant her first comment may have been, because she continues, "No one should expect things to change so quickly, either. There's only so much in your control."

Zuko holds her gaze with gratitude, until gratitude isn't a good excuse anymore. He loosely clasps her hand in his. "What's wrong with your hand?"

Katara frowns at this. "Oh, I don't know. I've been healing small fractures a lot lately. It's repetitive, I think I just did the movement too much." She lifts her fingers and flexes her fingers experimentally, wincing. Zuko wants to grab them back.

She shrugs. "I tried healing it, but my left hand is weaker, and honestly, it's probably phantom pain now."

"Have you tried heat?" Zuko asks.

In response, Katara holds her hand up in front of his face. "Just tigerbeetle balm. Smell it. Very popular around here."

Zuko brings her hand close to his face. He's hit by a weirdly overpowering smell. Katara laughs as he coughs and leans away, his nose still tingling.

"What is it?"

"Camphor," she says. " _Not_ actual tigerbeetles. Though now I'm pretty sure I can detect mint oil and menthol, too."

Zuko gives her a raised eyebrow.

"What? I've been sniffing plants all day."

"You have?" Zuko says as a prompt. He clasps her hand flat between his and concentrates. It's still pretty hard for him to generate heat without fire - Uncle is the only person he knows that can do it so casually, though he thinks that has more to do with the desire for hot tea than any desire to master survival skills.

"Yup. I went to the apothecaries to learn how to use the plants stocked in the hospital. I had no idea how far medicine has come over here. There are herbs for almost everything, and they _work,_ " she says, eyes flitting excitedly over her surroundings as she remembers the details of her day. "Really well, usually, and - ow!" She flinches suddenly.

Zuko realises that he's managed to squeeze her hand, just the slightest amount. "Sorry," he says quickly. It must be in a worse than he thought, than she's letting on. He's barely applying any pressure.

Katara continues, "I think maybe waterbenders are held back by how much we rely on healing, you know?"

Zuko lets the warmth seep from his palms to hers. He needs all his concentration for a steady, constant flow, so he directs his gaze away from her earnest expression.

"There's so much to learn in the apothecaries. I think we could even start a course back in Republic City - for the healers at the schools. I'm going to write to the board, and the schools back in the Water Tribes, actually, when I get the time -"

"That's a great idea," Zuko says. Her eagerness runs through him like his heat through her. It's invigorating, and he thinks suddenly how glad he is that he came to meet her.

He really can't forget, not even for a moment, how _much_ Katara has in her - how much she inspires him. He already knows the meetings tomorrow are going to feel easier, knowing the good she's doing down on the ground here.

Katara nods, deep in thought. Suddenly, she looks down at her hand in Zuko's lap. She shrinks a little, suddenly demure, and Zuko's own face is suddenly as warm as his hands.

Katara clears her throat. "That's really - that feels so much better, Zuko. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

He has to be imagining how quiet her voice has gotten from one moment to the next.

Zuko clears his throat, too. "It's no problem." Without much thought, he pushes his fingers between hers - that will let the heat get into the crevices between her fingers.

Katara sighs her relief from the ache, a movement slower and slighter than the non-existent afternoon breeze, but Zuko still feels the movement bleed from her hand into his whole body.

He chuckles awkwardly. "But you did think trying to weave tiny little flower stems with those fingers would be a good idea."

Katara frowns at the half-hearted attempt at a chain of flowers next to her on the bench. "Oh. Just a habit I picked up, I don't really know why I did that," she laughs lightly.

All the hands in Zuko's lap warm up a conspicuous amount at that comment. They both know whose habit that is. He hopes that Katara hasn't noticed, but when he dares a glance at her face, its expression is too preoccupied to even be aware of him. She picks out one of the flowers with her free hand, easing out the tangled stem and holding it between two fingers.

"Have you seen Aang lately?" she asks.

"Just a couple of days ago, actually. He came to see me." He doesn't know why he feels strange about looking at Katara while he tells her that.

"Really?" she says. "He didn't tell me. How did he seem?"

"Distracted," Zuko says.

Katara nods knowingly. "He's having trouble getting to that Spirit."

Zuko suddenly thinks of Uncle's letter. "You guys need to come to the Palace when everything here is done," he says, sitting forward. "My uncle's pestering me."

 _Pestering_ is a strong word, but he's the only person who's read that letter.

At this, Katara breaks into a smile. "Zuko - that would be perfect," - and now she's the one squeezing him - "Oh, I miss Iroh so much. And you. Ugh, I _miss_ you." She drops the flower to nudge a palm gently to his face.

All of Zuko feels alert. "And everyone else, too, obviously; Sokka, Suki, Toph," he says quickly, to distract himself. Katara nods along, grinning. Zuko shifts self-consciously on the bench. He can't enjoy making her happy _this_ much.

"Yeah," she agrees. "It would be nice to have everyone. _Us_ , though - we're going to be honeymooning," she says delightedly. "Aang will love that."

Honeymoon, right. Because they had their wedding. They're married. As much as this sounds like a weird _invitation_ -

"I hope so," Zuko says, trying to sound casual.

He looks at Katara square in the face. Her sweet, fierce, familiar face.

He wants to set this straight. Make something right to himself, for his own sanity, in his own head. He starts, "I want you guys to be - I _do_ want you to think of it as a honeymoon, Katara."

He's nodding and she's nodding back, encouragingly, but he's struggling with the words, and her renewed attention isn't helping. "Not just about Uncle, _I_ want to do that for you - I want my home to be that for you. Because you guys - you're my family -"

He can practically hear Katara's face contort with emotion. But Zuko doesn't know if her eyes well up at that, because he can't see; he can't see anything but hair and coarse fabric and more hair, and he can't feel anything except her arms thrown tight around him.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I don't understand why it's such a big deal! I mean - I'm the_ Avatar _\- it makes sense if people want me to come to their events," Aang says, flopping down onto the ground with a huff. He cranes his neck, impatient for some kind of agreement from the figure sitting at the desk. Aang doesn't really like working in chairs, so he does most of his paperwork on the mats on the other end of the room, in the stuffy little Republic City apartment they're keeping for now._

 _Zuko looks up briefly, a bowl of noodles in his hand. He stays decidedly quiet._

 _Aang sighs in annoyance. He has a ton of paperwork that needs doing this week, considering the United Republic's first anniversary passed not two days ago, not to mention a bunch of people he needs to meet with over the next few days. He thought attending a few little inaugurations (relatively silly - one, a cabbage shop that seemed absolutely intent on his sponsorship for some reason, like he owed them or something, and the other, introducing a play in Republic City's first official municipal school) would be a nice distraction. Katara seemed pretty content with them so far, so he doesn't know why she's suddenly so grumpy about the Councillor's election party he attended this morning._

 _"I don't know why she's so annoyed about it," Aang carries on, "people wanna see the Avatar. What's so wrong with that? Yeah, maybe it has been a little hectic on that end this week -"_

 _Zuko coughs a little. Aang's eyes swerve on him._

 _"Am I being unreasonable?" he asks, suddenly plagued with the idea that he might be, though still, he doesn't really get why. The tone of Zuko's interruption deflates him. Zuko isn't usually so quiet - even when they talk about Katara, who he is a little reluctant to be blunt about given their early history. So this is a little unsettling._

 _"Zuko? What do you think?" he prompts._

 _Zuko looks distinctly uncomfortable. He puts his bowl down, chopsticks placed carefully across the rim in proper palace etiquette. "Look at it like this - you've been to a dozen different inaugurations and ceremonies and whatever these past couple of weeks. It makes sense she would want to spend time with you, doesn't it?"_

 _Aang huffs again and picks at the sleeve of his robe. "But we'd just be at a meeting together. That's not even fun."_

 _Yeah, okay - it's starting to dawn on him what Zuko is getting at. They haven't seen much of each other for so long, him and Katara - Aang is busy here in the United Republic, and Katara has her duties down in the Southern Water Tribe. He mumbles, "Everyone wants me everywhere. It's not something I can control."_

 _"I get it, Aang, I really do," Zuko says. "I know how important it is to keep up these things right now. But look at it from her perspective."_

 _Aang cranes his neck up to watch Zuko behind the desk. He's done with his lunch and pulled a formidable stack of thick parchment in front of him. Before Zuko can start on his work and the moment is gone, Aang ventures, "It's not just that. I- I don't want them to feel disappointed by the Avatar. They all ask so nicely."_

 _Zuko doesn't reply to that, only a slight nod of the head from where Aang can see it. Aang isn't affronted or embarrassed by the reaction. He's relieved, actually. It feels good just to say it out loud and maybe with someone else he'd expect some hurried platitudes, but Zuko, he knows, does get it._

 _He shakes his head, trying to shake off his mood with it. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right, Zuko. I'm gonna go find her. "_

 _"Sure," Zuko says understandingly. Aang leaps up to his feet only to see him make an aborted motion, looking more uncomfortable by the moment. Something is pressing on his tongue. Aang waits patiently._

 _"Also -"_

 _"What?"_

 _"Nothing," Zuko says quickly._

 _"What?" Aang demands, feeling his mood lighten now. Zuko looks painfully like he wishes he hadn't said anything. Aang revels in his awkwardness. It never gets old how someone as awkward as this could have once been so fearsome to him. "What's up? Tell me."_

 _"There's - well. She didn't say anything to me," Zuko adjusts his chair and it creaks loudly on the floor. He looks even more uneasy now than the time that he walked in on Aang and Katara making out behind Appa, something which_ really _makes Aang doubt the truth to that statement. "There were a lot of girls there, you know, this morning, they were kind of… well," he coughs again, "when you're the Avatar..."_

 _"Oh," Aang says._ Oh. _He feels the heat rising quickly in his face and tries as discreetly as he can to cool down, to divert it away. He scratches the back of neck, feeling a little stupid. "Oh. I mean I guess I do enjoy the attention -"_

 _"Aang, you - our_ only _air nomad representative, I might add - skipped a meeting with our newly elected councillors to go," Zuko says emphatically. "I had to deal with that guy who thinks we should reintegrate the City into the Fire Nation by_ myself _."_

 _Embarrassment warms the back of Aang's neck. "I did? Right. It's just one meeting out of a dozen. Sorry, Zuko. I didn't even think about that. I'll be there next time." He laughs nervously, and thumbs to the door. "Katara - gotta go - thanks."_

 _He stops short, one foot out of the door. "You know, you're not half bad at relationship advice."_

 _Zuko half-glares at him from behind his papers. "I didn't say anything that wasn't obvious."_

 _Halfway out of the house, Aang stops in his tracks again. The realisation hits him. He darts back in, poking his head through the door. "Wait, was Katara really jealous?"_

 _Zuko groans and puts his head in his hands. Aang, suddenly hot in the face, takes that as his cue to leave for real. Whew._

* * *

It's almost been a month here in the Earth Kingdom, and it's only getting harder to figure out what's going on. Aang knows he should have gotten somewhere by now. Even the meditation itself is more difficult to concentrate on, his focus constantly being pulled in other directions. He thought it was the monsoon rains affecting him at first, but they've pretty much stopped by now and he's still getting nowhere. He hasn't been able to tell anyone as much either, neither Katara nor Zuko or the officials that he's liaising with at Bakai. As far as they're aware, he has made it into the Spirit World a few times - which is true - but they don't know how much work that has actually taken. And he's still nowhere _near_ finding the namazu Spirit - he's been hanging around, asking around the Spirit World itself, but this Spirit seems like it's actually intent on evading him at every opportunity.

The meditation takes a lot out of him. It's something about the air here - it's stiffer, sadder, unwelcoming. Aang isn't surprised about that, but it does take its toll. He hasn't seen Katara in a couple of weeks, their schedules clashing horrendously; whenever Katara's done with her shift, the air is finally calm and cool enough for Aang to start meditating. He managed to catch Zuko briefly a few times, flying out to Daoshu routinely to clear his head, but honestly, he doesn't know if that's doing him more harm than good.

Because - he really can't deny it now - seeing Zuko so much feels weird. The moments they get with each other are brief and unfulfilling, but at the same time, Aang feels like he should be fleeing them. Like he shouldn't be there. Because all he wants to do when he's there is _tell_ him. It's the first time he's been around Zuko this long for years now, and it's so easy to slip back into old habits. Whatever it is they had. Whatever it is in that man that makes Aang feel known, _understood_ in his presence, and of course, the endless glee that fills him whenever he gets to ruffle Zuko's feathers a bit.

It shouldn't make him feel this elated, and it should _not_ make him yearn for so much more than he has already.

What on Earth could he tell Zuko? What could he possibly say, and what would it even achieve? They're good. They are. They already have something far more precious than he could have ever imagined, and no matter how flirty the Fire Lord gets with him ( _if_ that's even a thing, and not some cactus juice-level hallucination that Aang's mopey brain is creating for him), that's really all it's going to be.

It doesn't matter. Not in the least because Katara is the start and end of everything, and he can't imagine any of it without her. Which is a different kind of mindlessly wishful daydream.

Ugh.

But he can deal with all of that later. Today, the only thing on the agenda is enjoying himself. It's the Summer Festival in Daoshu - two days of food, dancing and crowds from every corner of the province, at the full moon of the hottest month of the year. Zuko had dropped in their last little chat that the councillors were debating whether to even hold it this year, but he's glad they came to the right conclusion. It's better to keep up traditions. Normalcy. People need it.

 _He_ needs it. His only plan is to wander the streets of the Festival with Katara, doing nothing except checking out the sights, and eating whatever smells good.

Aang wanders into the main street pretty early in the morning. It's bright out here - he loves seeing the colours of the flags and the stalls, bright reds, blues and oranges littered amongst a sea of rich emerald green, Daoshu's signature colour. Earth Kingdom festivals are the best. Especially down in the south here, there's a freeness of spirit in the air that nothing in the Fire Nation or Water Tribes match. It reminds him of the air nomad festivals.

He spots a familiar face - the over-enthusiastic site manager from Bakai. "Hey! Akash!" he calls out. "Is Katara here yet?"

Akash almost jumps in shock. "Avatar Aang!" He tries some kind of bow, before Aang hastily stops him with a hand. "She is, I saw her back near the stage," he points in the direction where the music is louder; a fast, repetitive drum beat echoed by probably a hundred performers.

Aang quickly thanks him and makes his way through the crowd. A few people recognise him, and he returns all smiles duly, but no one stops him - it's common knowledge now that the Avatar is around these parts, doing some kind of 'enquiring' with the Spirits.

Aang takes in his surroundings as he searches for Katara. He can't help notice how much his spirits lift looking around at the festival. The crowds are thick, full of painted faces laughing and chatting, and so many screaming children that it makes laughter bubble out of him with the sheer life of it all. _This_ is his duty - to protect this. He makes his way along the wide avenue. The tantalising smells of street foods mingle together in the air, from bustling carts. A painter with a grinning half-done canvas stands surrounded by a dozen other faces (Aang spots a couple of Avatars, the stark blue painted arrows sticking out like a sore thumb against the more muted bumble flies and designs.) A few stalls down, a sculpting class is taking place, crude shapes being forced out of rock by determined mini-earthbenders. The increasing frequency of the vast tapestry-like Daoshu flags hanging down from each lamppost - two little white triangles of mountain surrounded by lush green - tell him that he's nearing the main stage.

He's almost there, wondering idly whether he should get a couple of barbecue sticks for himself and Katara, when a bright-eyed woman catches his eye, her own widening in recognition. She's struggling with a crying child bustling in her arms. She looks alert, a little frenzied, and Aang notices another kid pulling on her skirt, ice cream-sticky fingers making a mess of the fabric. She looks ready to give up.

Ah - it won't hurt. He can't help it. He sidles over, the woman's saucer eyes following him, until he's easing the baby out of her arms, talking nonsense at it and cooing (he's not new to this). Despite her awestruck smile, the woman doesn't let herself be distracted, taking the moment to attend to her other child, wiping the ice cream from between his fingers.

"Oh - !" She says, "Avatar Aang. Thank you - what a pleasure to see you," while the kid repeats the name to himself, in clueless thought.

Aang blinks at the child in his arms, who looks up at him, eyes flitting, no doubt trying to make sense of this tall orange presence, and forgetting to cry in its curiosity. Aang smiles.

Of course it has to be at exactly this moment that Katara slips out of the thickening crowd and spots him. Aang realises, in a weird kind of dismay, that she's leading Zuko behind her by the hand.

Crap.

Katara reaches him, already laughing giddily, but Zuko just raises his eyebrows with an amused smirk.

"Still kissing babies?" he says simply. Katara just laughs harder. She's practically bouncing on her toes, waiting her turn to be able to hug him.

Aang hands the baby back to the mother (with _many_ more kisses to its tiny head, looking pointedly at Zuko who just rolls his eyes with a smile), brushes away her thanks, and sweeps Katara into his arms.

It feels like a lifeline. He breathes in the smell of her hair, and honestly it smells a little like a hospital, but it doesn't matter, because she's _here_ , and the tensions flows out of him like water, her arms squeezing around his shoulders like they're doing so for that express purpose. Katara's hugs say _I love you_ better than anything else in the world can. When they part slightly, her eyes say the same.

"Hi," she says breathlessly. "When did you get here?"

Aang isn't above a brief kiss in the middle of a crowd, and then he answers her questions and asks some more in return. It's crazy how long they've managed to go without seeing each other, despite being in the same city. From the corner of his eye, he can see that Zuko has kind of melded into the background since the hug - not partaking in the conversation. He seems uncertain. It's unlike him.

"Zuko," he says, "what's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Zuko says, observing their surroundings. "Just confirming that the only reason you're here is to feed your ego by getting attention from strangers," he says easily.

Aang smiles winningly at him, despite himself. "Again, Your Fieryness, this isn't the way to deal with your jealousy."

Katara takes his hand, and slips other one back into Zuko's. "Anyone hungry?"

Just like that, Katara and Zuko devolve into a conversation about whether fire flakes or Daoshu's crunchy lentils are better, something so fascinatingly intense that it could almost give Sokka a run for his money. Aang makes them promise to get mango ice afterwards, regardless of the outcome of their debate.

The place is vibrant, and so are his friends. Aang tries not to let the familiar dread of the last few days creep up again. He has more than Spirits on his mind. He doesn't want to be on edge today, but as they walk, he realises there's something almost more miserable about it when they are all together. He shakes his head in an effort to push it to the back of his mind. Because with Katara strolling so easily between the two of them, it's almost easy to imagine that she knows. That she gets it. That she wouldn't care.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, it becomes too hot to stay out, the heat seeping into every surface and emanating it back like a fire. Since the regular hangouts in town are closed for the festival today, they find themselves relocated to the government guest quarters of Daoshu where Zuko is staying. The lychee juice has been acquired, the Pai Sho board set (though none of them are really the kind of people that have the patience to sit through a whole game, as they soon remember), and each person caught up on the minutiae of the others' jobs here.

It's clear to Aang now how much they all really needed a break.

By the sound of the birds outside, it's early evening when the conversation slows for a long moment. Aang sinks back, content with the quietness. Katara is poring over Republic City newspapers, strewn on the jute mat with half her limbs sprawled over Aang. Zuko had someone bring them over a few hours ago, when he saw how her eyes had lit up at their mention. _Of course_ , Aang thought. Daoshu, big industry, better communications. The town hall kept foreign papers for their records, while Bakai couldn't. He kind of wishes he had thought of it. But then again, he hasn't managed to keep up with anything himself these last few days.

Zuko, a little further on the mat, seems content to just lay there, soaking up the last rays of the sun coming from the open balcony doors. It must be almost as hot here as it is in the Fire Nation. Or vice versa. Aang's not sure how the seasons work here yet, though someone did try to explain it to him. There's six of them, apparently. Zuko stretches a little, shed of his thin layers of robe so he's just in loose trousers and a tunic. Out of all that garb, he looks alarmingly like he did when they were teenagers; the intense few months at the beginning of the United Republic when he would come back to the apartment at the end of the day, ignore every one of his meek assistants, and just collapse right into a couch.

"What's the news of the day?" Aang says lightly.

Katara shifts against him, her voice lazy. "Oh, the same as usual. A lot about the aid work here." She squints at the paper, which rustles in Aang's ear. "The new bridge almost completed in Republic City. Cabbage company acquiring lots of little shops fast."

Katara gasps suddenly. She sits, up, eyes boring into the paper clutched in her hand. Her hair slips out of its loose hold with the movement.

"What? What happened?" Aang asks. He spares a moment to smooth the leather tie out of her hair and fasten it around his own wrist. His stomach twists with apprehension; the initial news of the earthquake still fresh in his mind.

"It says there's a case for - they're making a case for _bloodbending,_ " she says.

At this, even Zuko blinks out of his reverie. "Who is?"

"A few healers - scholars - from the Northern tribe," she says, reading fast. "They want to study whether bloodbending can be used for medical purposes." She blinks, eyes widening. "This could change everything. I can't believe I've never considered - "

Zuko leans up on his elbow, brows furrowed. Aang draws his eyes away from how the movement stretches the fabric over his chest. "Really? You worked so hard to get it outlawed, didn't you?"

Katara looks like she hardly hears him, her eyes scanning the piece again. Finally, she puts it down slowly. "In Republic City, sure. But there isn't any law against it in the North. It's too rare. Wow. I- I have to get more information on this when we get back. This could be huge."

Aang glances at Zuko, who looks equally confused. He says, "But it's so dangerous."

Katara nods, "I know. Of course it is. But I've been thinking about different ways of healing a lot, lately," she glances at Zuko, "and bloodbending is so powerful. There's so many possibilities." She looks a little dazed.

Aang isn't sure what he thinks of this, if he's honest. Katara is normally so vehemently against the notion of bloodbending - but she has that expression on her face now, determined and shrewd, and Aang couldn't bring himself to discourage that even if he wanted to.

Zuko sits up too, now. "Aren't you the only person who can bloodbend?"

"The only person _in record_ ," Katara says. "If I supported them, this could gain traction. I know a few healers who are good enough benders to be taught… So it's not implausible." She brings her knees up to her chest, smoothing down the light fabric of her skirt.

Even without healer training, Aang can see plainly how it would be useful: in surgeries, the ones too delicate and precise for even the best tools, probably even to administer medicine. It does make his skin crawl a little to think about it, but he sees her point. It's not that he's against it (hell, _he_ knows what it feels like, he has reckless teenage inquisitiveness and a girlfriend just as curious about bending styles as him, to thank for that). But even then, it feels - _felt_ \- like something they shouldn't have done. Something so private it was almost violating.

Katara swirls a long, twirling droplet out of the lychee juice next to her, eyes distant. "I can think of half a dozen patients right here who could have been saved with better…" She blinks and shakes her head. "I haven't done it in a long time - that kind of power, I don't know whether I could. But my comfort isn't as important as saving people..."

Aang could contend that - but he decides not to. This is her process - and Zuko, too, seems to agree because he prompts her with a nod of encouragement.

"If- if you want to try it, you could do it to me," Zuko says suddenly.

"What?" Aang sputters. Does he _know_ what he's saying?

Katara looks at him with the same bewilderment. "What?"

Zuko sits up straighter, "It might… help you figure out how you feel about it." He gives Aang a sidelong glance. "I know you hate the feeling, right? So," he shrugs, like it should be obvious, like it's no big deal for him to be offering himself up for invasive experiments.

Katara looks helplessly at Aang, but he's not sure whether it's to ask for him to step in or to ask for permission. It's a little frightening how Zuko can still think so instrumentally sometimes. Aang doesn't like pondering what could have made him think like that.

Aang breathes out after careful thought. "Go ahead," he says, "If you're sure."

Katara directs Zuko to sit in front of her. From Aang's position lying on the ground, he can see them both half-shrouded in the fading daylight. Katara's body leans against him; a warm weight.

"Uh, okay, just sit still," Katara says, a firm whisper, and though the effect seems to work on Zuko, who straightens up his shoulders, it's lost on Aang, who can see the confidence weighing up in her posture, not faltering but not solid either. "Give me your arm," she says. Zuko does.

Katara pushes up the loose sleeve of Zuko's tunic. His forearm looks pale and long under hers; the scar on his wrist barely visible. Katara furrows her brows and poises her hands.

Aang watches the minuscule movement of her fingers. He watches Zuko's face.

Zuko gives a rough startled breath, his body stiffening.

"Are you okay - ?" Katara says, almost a whisper, her eyes large and face wide open in sympathy even as her arms below are creating a sweeping arc of movement. "Is it - ?"

Aang can't look away from their faces. Wait. He doesn't know why he feels like he _should_ be looking away -

"Yeah," Zuko breathes. "I can feel it." He swallows; Aang can see the tension rise from his chest.

He ventures, "What does it feel like?" His voice is quiet to match theirs. Katara's expression is bolder now, but he finds his gaze drawn back to Zuko's face, and marvels at how freely he lets her do _that_ to him.

"It's weird," Zuko says. "It's- it's inside my body- kind of- it doesn't really _hurt_ or anything, but I can't control -" His eyes draw along his own forearm, chasing the movement. He looks up at Aang for a moment and snatches his gaze away just as quickly.

Aang feels heat creeping up his own neck. He really was staring, wasn't he?

Why on Earth does it feel like he shouldn't be watching this?

Katara is getting more of a hang on it. Aang can only just make out the focus in her eyes, in the slight tilt of her head. It makes him almost shiver a little. She draws her hands up, towards Zuko's shoulder; the movement rolls it back, though Aang can't tell whose movement.

They don't make contact but they don't need to; it's plain to see the care she imbues into each tiny movement, like a caress. If Aang closed his eyes, he could find a thousand other moments where she looked like that, none of them involving Zuko or bloodbending.

After an eternity, she drops her hands slowly. Zuko releases a long breath and Aang with him.

"Okay," Katara says. Her voice sounds parched. She tries a smile that doesn't work. "Good. Thanks. I got it. It's not so bad. I- I'm gonna go get some water." She almost leaps up from between them in her rush to get out of the door.

Zuko looks stupefied. When he notices Aang watching, he clears his throat, adjusting his sleeve. Even if Aang didn't know personally what a strange transgression it felt like, Zuko's whole aura says as much.

Aang knows not to ask about it, but he can't help reaching forward. He drags his hand down Zuko's arm, squeezes his shoulder and stays there.

It's quiet, and Katara's expression lingers in his mind, clinging to his brain like the sweltering heat. Nothing is unsafe right now. It would be so easy to just…

She tiptoes back in. It's dark now, but nobody makes a move to light any lamps. They find other things to converse about, treading softly around random topics.

Katara drops her gaze every time Aang tries to hold it.

* * *

Aang wakes to the sound of hawkers and birds at dawn and the blissful scent of fresh morning air. He blinks past the remnants of sleep. Katara is fast asleep on his arm, which is wedged uncomfortably against the floor mat and a cushion. Right - they're in Zuko's guesthouse. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a sharply dressed Zuko stumbling out. There are formalities and events scheduled on the second day of the festival. Zuko's probably going to make some kind of speech.

The second time he wakes up, the room is noticeably warmer. Katara stirs next to him. They dress and leave for the festival, walking down to the main avenue in silence.

Katara speaks first. "Um, last night," she says. "I'm sorry for making it about my - I know we were all there to have a break, but when I saw that in the news, I just couldn't get the idea out of my mind."

"Katara, it's alright," he says, kindly. He knows she's a little unsettled.

They're both avoiding the Fire Lord-shaped elephant in the room. What he desperately wants to know is whether any of it is for the same reasons.

"I think you might be onto something big," Aang continues. He stumbles over it a little, "I think it's -it's good to get out of your comfort zone with healing. This earthquake's made it clearer what the important things really are."

"I can't believe Zuko _let_ me," Katara blurts, unable to hold it in.

Aang swallows. "I can," he says. "I think he'd do anything for you."

Katara draws her brows, a little too indignant. "What do you mean?"

Aang laughs lightly. "He's clearly invested in you figuring all this out," he starts. "And I dunno, it doesn't surprise me that he trusts you so much."

Katara looks down at her feet. "Yeah, you're right. Still, it feels -" She's struggling with the words - not a common occurrence. "I just - it surprised me," she finishes unceremoniously.

"Yeah, I know," Aang says. "But I don't think he'd do that with just anyone."

Okay, he has to say something. This is his chance. There _is_ something going on.

He tries hard to swallow down the nerves. "I kind of think -"

"What?" Katara says sharply, much too quickly.

"Uh, nothing," Aang says. "Nevermind."

Down in the centre of the city, the bustle is just the same as yesterday. Aang leaves Katara engrossed in an apothecary stall to go find the iced mango that they so unfairly forgot about the day before.

It happens quickly. Aang is standing under the shade of a tall clay structure at the edge of the street one moment, craning his head to search for the ice cream stall. In the space it takes to blink, the foundations give a heaving jerk, in a motion Aang feels in every bone in his body, and the whole thing tumbles. A split second later, a hundred thunderous crashes erupt in all directions. Screams fill the air. Aang catches most of the rubble around him on instinct, swerving it out of the way of the crowd.

He steps off the ground, about to shoot into the air to see where his help is needed, looking for the densely crowded main avenue, when a force that feels like the power of a monstrous wave bludgeons into him, knocking him out cold.

The next time he opens his eyes, everything is starkly quiet. Strangely, his body doesn't feel injured from the fall. It doesn't feel like anything. He blearily wonders what he's looking at and watches the vast, black thing in front of him come into focus.

It's a giant, unblinking pupil. Aang jumps up. He's standing nose to nose with an enormous catfish, the size of three main avenues. The namazu Spirit.


	6. Chapter 6

_"Katara, close your eyes."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Just do it," Aang says, leaping up from where Katara had knocked him over for what felt to her like the hundredth time - she's lost count by now. "I wanna show you something."_

 _Standing with her ankles submerged in the squishy Ember Island sand, the water warm and pleasant by her calves, Katara narrows her eyes. "Do you really think the fact that I can't see is gonna stop me from obliterating you at a water fight, Aang?"_

 _Aang rolls his eyes. "Come on," he says, "please?"_

 _"Alright, fine," Katara says, following his movements warily with her eyes. The white sand sticks to his bare knees._

 _Aang gives her a pointed look. Reluctantly, she closes her eyes._

 _He approaches her slowly. Katara can't help but squint one eye open for a moment to try to gauge what he's playing at, but Aang is quiet, almost pensive. Hm. Suspicious._

 _"Okay," Aang says finally. "Make sure you stay there," he says, looking at her feet. "And remember, keep your eyes closed."_

 _Katara finally does close her eyes, moved by his seriousness, holding her breath. They're standing halfway into a beautiful rockpool at the edge of one of the island's bays - there's nothing but turquoise water for miles, and today has been filled with nothing but spectacularly silly waterbending experiments. For days, they've been out here with Sokka, Suki, Toph, and a few others. And even though Zuko couldn't make it from the mainland due to his busy schedule, having most of her old friends together, far away from her duties in a lush landscape has been heavenly. And today, alone with Aang, is proving to be even better._

 _Almost alone. She can hear Toph and Sokka bickering over their berry ice cream, all the way up near the beach huts._

 _Still, it's the perfect break away from what has been a turbulent few months of work, mostly involving setting up institutions around Republic City; from copycat houses of healing like the ones that she started years ago at home, to bending schools catering to all three types of bending and beyond; not to mention the orphanage which was a headache and a half to write the legal documents for. As more and more residents flock to the City, barely a decade old, Katara finds herself becoming more invested in the wellbeing of its citizens. She wants to have her mark on it. A place for everyone, regardless of tribe. It really does feel like they're on the verge of a new era._

 _The gentle breeze carried in by the water rustles through her hair, already drying from the hard sunlight. She can smell the salt. It's cool and comforting, as is the constant sound of the waves, and the birds high above. Katara waits with her ears perked, ready to jump into action at the slightest provocation from Aang._

 _Slowly, a sound of water rushing begins, at the height of her waist. It gets louder and louder, until it feels like it's surrounding her from all corners, above and below. The noise reaches a deafening peak before subsiding all of a sudden._

 _"Okay," Aang says finally. He sounds winded. "Open your eyes."_

 _Katara gasps._

 _Although they were standing a few metres into the shallow pool just minutes before, now there's only clear, blue water all around. It surrounds Katara like moving, liquid walls; alive, rippling with a crystal clear view of the myriad of colourful creatures and plants that live below the water. It curves high above her head, too, letting in a brilliant stream of sunlight that glitters when it pierces through the water, lighting up every crevice of the pool._

 _They're standing right in the middle of a vast, transparent whirlpool._

 _Katara exhales. "Oh - wow," she says, feeling a little dumbstruck._

 _"Do you like it?" Aang says, shy like a child._

 _"It's so_ beautiful. _" She turns around, and around again. She can hardly get enough of the view. In every space she looks, something dazzling catches her eye, above all, the luminous water, caught in the sunlight and glowing with colours that are almost unreal. "Why?"_

 _Aang grins at her expression."Now we're alone," he says. His face becomes serious quickly, however, and he hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. "I- uh. I wanted to ask you something important."_

 _Oh. That. Maybe -? Katara breathes in sharply. Or maybe not, there are a dozen kind of important things he could be referring to. She tries to keep her heart beating right._

 _"I know we always said we would," Aang starts. "Always, at some point. But this is me asking you, right now, Katara." He pauses, taking both of her hands in his._

 _Katara's eyes widen. She has to stop herself from blurting out her response before he's even said the words._

 _He breathes in deeply. "Let's get married."_

 _"Aang!_ Yes!"

 _She throws her arms around him exuberantly, the force of her movement causing Aang to stumble. The tall curve of water around them wavers when Aang is thrown off balance. "Oh - argh! - no," he says, falling, but it's too late. Katara turns in panic, heaving her strength, just in time to disperse the water as it falls over them, before it can flatten them._

 _They end up getting the breath knocked out of them, but not much else. Aang is laughing hard, once he stops coughing. Katara joins in, climbing her way through clumpy sand, and wipes a sopping pile of hair away from her eyes. She kisses him long and hard and hugs him even longer. Eventually, the distant sound of Sokka's unmistakably dramatic retching and a disturbingly loud whistle (Toph, no doubt) pry her attention away._

 _Katara pulls away and just grins, holding his face in her hands. They help each other stand, and Katara can't seem to look away from him. She pulls her long hair over one shoulder and focuses on getting a precise stream of water to draw the sand out of it._

 _Aang coughs again, with a grimace that tells Katara that there's sand in worse places. "Sorry about that," he says. "Probably should not have asked life-changing questions standing inside of a giant whirlpool I made."_

 _"You idiot," she says happily. "How are you the master of all four elements?"_

 _Aang frowns in mock hurt. "Now you sound like Zuko."_

 _Katara smirks, tilting her head. "Thought you'd like that?"_

 _"Maybe I do," he says testily. "Maybe I'll go become Princess of the Fire Nation instead."_

 _Katara laughs. The sun, blissfully warm on her face, can't match how bright she feels inside. "Let's go tell them," she says._

* * *

The rain has come back with a vengeance. The deafening clatter that was so hard to tune out only a few days ago seems like background noise now. Katara runs the short distance from the hospital and down the path to the adjacent guesthouse, an arm in front of her to bend away the heavy droplets. By the time she reaches the main door, her feet are soaked regardless. She stifles a yawn, shutting the creaking door behind her, and collapses in front of it immediately to peel off her shoes. She should have brought some sealskin boots when she came here. Goodness knows she's too tired to try to bend away every puddle in her way.

Standing, Katara quickly removes her hospital overshirt, unties her stiff hair, and walks to her chambers. Her first stop is the room where Aang lies. She does what she's been doing thrice a day for the last four days: checks his temperature with her hand (pausing at his forehead), pulse (wrist), and airs and smooths down the light layer of blanket covering him (heart, unnecessary.) The air today is stagnant, a feeling of being trapped inside even when she's outside. Even in this room, the three different mechanical fans dragged back from the hospital do little to shift the stifling heat.

Nothing is going to happen to Aang's body. Experience has shown her that when someone's consciousness is in the Spirit World it leaves the body untouched - protected, almost - as long it's kept safe. The heat won't touch him.

What experience _hasn't_ shown her is how to proceed when someone doesn't come back for four days.

No one here is knowledgeable enough on these matters to know what's happening for sure (Aang would probably have the best clue), but it's not hard to put it together. When Aang was found - in the wake of the aftershock - there wasn't a scratch on him. The earthquake itself indicated the presence of a Spirit close by, as Katara knew from their most recent conversations, and as she had tried to explain to the Daoshu leaders.

They hadn't been far from each other when it happened. Aang was probably a few streets away from her. The damage wasn't as bad as it looked, either. The temporary decorations from the festival came down in a hideous blur, but they weren't made of brick or stone. Almost everyone in town was outdoors, thanks to the festival too. A few dozen injuries and no deaths.

Katara closes her eyes. Four whole days. Once the sound of Aang's heartbeat, rhythmic, pressed to her ear, finally overpowers the chaotic patter of rain outside, Katara pulls away. She puts out the lamp in the room and leaves to go to bed. Tomorrow, she's going to send one of her healers with Appa to the North. She can't sit around useless until her options are exhausted. Right now, her best bet is water from the Spirit Oasis. Even the Avatar's soul can't last away from its body for so long.

In her usual quarters, Katara flops down onto the bed with a sigh. The energy leaves her body like water seeping through sand. The week has been tiring and it feels like she could sleep for days. It's difficult to get Aang out of her head even when she's working on patients.

And to think that she had been daydreaming that morning - mere moments before it happened - about someone else entirely. She can't help but feel stupidly, selfishly like she had some hand in this. A sign for her. Mocking her and guilting her.

Katara lies down and pulls her hair away from her neck to get some relief from the cool pillow and tries to think about the day planned tomorrow. There's a gathering of physicians and healers in Daoshu, to have a progress meeting of sorts. She's going to go to that. She had argued a little too vehemently with the healers in Daoshu to bring Aang here and keep him here - it would be good to go back and liaise with them, to show there's no hard feelings, regardless of how much she would rather not have to concern herself with any kind of reporting right now.

Katara sighs and turns. The sticky heat is worse tonight, and the rain, too, feels louder. It isn't natural rain. The seasons here are like clockwork, and they're weeks past the monsoon. Her best guess is this is something to do with the Spirit disturbance. She rubs her hands over her eyes and digs the heels of her palms into them.

She doesn't want to be thinking about the rain.

Zuko didn't come today, like he did the past couple of days. He was the one that had brought Aang over on Appa while Katara dealt with the injuries that had happened on site. And he was the one monitoring him while Katara worked, all day on the first day, and a good while on the days after.

But the long-awaited fleet from the Fire Nation was scheduled to arrive this afternoon, so Zuko, of course, was attending to that. Reconstruction in Daoshu City would start soon. All of that, happening out there just in the next town, sits strangely in Katara's head. Only last week she had been filled with bold curiosity, like something was burgeoning, at this new alliance of countries, yet now, she can't muster up a feeling more significant than her annoyance flaring at the stupidly loud rain on this stupid tin roof.

She tries to think about something else. The patients in the hospital are doing remarkably well. A girl she had been tending to from the start - two broken bones and an infection from coughing up dust in her lungs - Katara had seen in the cafe this morning, back at her usual job. It warmed her heart so immensely; though by now, that particular feeling seemed like a hundred years ago rather than a mere twelve hours. She knows her healers are going to be out of here in a few weeks.

Once Zuko has overseen the beginnings of the reconstruction project, his job would be done too. And Aang - well. She squeezes her eyes shut and hopes against hope that he's somewhere now, getting something done, and not -

Katara tries to close her eyes and focus on the fan whirring in the corner of the room.

It doesn't matter. She keeps coming back to the same thing.

Zuko. Her fists clench where they are, frustration digging her nails into her palm. She _resents_ his diligence. He's been here every day, for goodness sake. She's had to see his face every single day.

She knows she made a mistake with the bloodbending. She _knows._ And the knowing only makes it worse, because she would do it again.

It didn't feel like a mistake with Aang at her back, _literally,_ and despite the storm in her stomach that night it didn't even feel like a mistake the day after. She wished Aang had said whatever he was going to say.

Because now she's alone. And guilty.

A teenage crush is one thing, and even what remained of it afterwards was harmless. It was fun. She believed so strongly that whatever passing fancy she had felt over Zuko once upon a time had morphed into the deep affinity that she felt for him. A true friendship.

But whatever the hell went on that night won't stop haunting her - she has to admit she was egging herself on. It was morbid.

And no matter how she spins it, what can she say to herself, when her husband lies in a damned spirit coma in the next room and all she can think is how candescent she feels over their mutual, dearest friend?

She is _not_ going to bear a grudge against Zuko over this. No - she can't. Not with everything he's ever done for her.

She misses the times when they could just all sit and joke together. Her and Zuko and Aang. Not that those times have gone anywhere in particular, but she can't help but feel like some boundary has been crossed. She sighs. She's going in circles. _Sleep. You need the energy._

Ugh. It's pointless.

Katara sits up, and decides to bring herself a glass of water from outside. It's lukewarm. Distracted, she freezes it on her first attempt to cool it down, and spends a frustrating few seconds bringing it back to a drinkable temperature. She drinks fast, thirstier than she thought she was.

Nothing to say of Aang in all of this. She stops, mid-sip. Bizarrely, she actually _doesn't_ know what he would make of this issue (alright, not _this_ issue, in its weird intensity, but the idea of it, maybe). There are times where she's been so close to wondering about him - that morning included. Times when she has been so close to the brink of breaching that subject, only her own incrimination in the matter stopping her. It would be impossible not to wonder - he isn't the kind of person who's good at hiding anything.

But no. Aang would tell her if he actually harboured any feelings like that for Zuko. Certainly before she told him, right? There are people in the water tribes that look down on that kind of affection, but she knows from Aang that the air nomads never begrudged anyone any kind of lifestyle. They didn't even live in regular families. Aang definitely wouldn't pay that any mind. The way he talks about Zuko to her normally is only a breath away from devotion anyway (something Katara never fails to make fun of) and it would take someone much less perceptive than her to read the unwavering loyalty to Zuko that simmers underneath that, the kind that Aang reserves for few things outside of his values and - well, her.

Would it absolve her if he was feeling the same way, too? What would they even do with that knowledge?

And here she is, actually, really, truly pondering on the possibility of something like that. She needs more sleep than she thought.

* * *

Daoshu is surprisingly sunny. The sun is setting as she rides back with her fellow healers in a carriage; the sky glows orange, not a cloud in sight. The physicians' meeting in the morning showed great progress - understandably more in Daoshu than Bakai, but even then only slightly; Katara notes proudly that her healers have almost been a match for the drastic difference in infrastructure. She herself is in the clear with the Daoshu healers, too, and the sympathy from them over Aang has bolstered Katara's will greatly - she feels much more optimistic than the night before. She's always been the kind of person that responds to compassion over anything else.

Her good mood doesn't last.

When she comes back to the guesthouse, Zuko is there judging by the peculiar sound of a dragon's huffing coming from the direction of the clearing behind the compound, as well as a physician from the hospital that she doesn't recognise. She's mildly annoyed when she is ushered into a corner by him the moment she enters, but a glance at Aang shows that Zuko is with him, and she eases a little.

"Master Katara," the physician says urgently. "While you were gone, there were some changes in Avatar Aang's state. He's running a high fever suddenly. We don't know what might be the cause."

Katara catches him eyeing the scene, no doubt taking in the peculiar sight of Fire Nation high royalty tending to the Avatar inside a common Earth Kingdom guesthouse.

The worry lining his brow is genuine, however, and Katara feels regretful for her annoyance, though she hasn't shown it. It feels like everyone is on her side except herself. He lets her know what they can bring for him - fans, herbs, cloths to cool if necessary - and Katara lets him know that she's trying to get hold of Spirit Oasis water for what it might do, in return. Once he bows deeply to the both of them and takes his leave, she turns to Zuko.

"You're back so soon?" she says, by way of greeting. With Zuko at his head, Katara makes to take the space left on the sleeping mat next to Aang's legs.

He watches her sit with a curious expression. Katara pauses - oh, right. It's not their usual greeting. Maybe it would be better for her head if there was no hug today. She sits down cross-legged, pulling her skirt over her knees self-consciously.

Zuko says, "The meeting ended pretty early today. The Mayor wanted to get to debriefing the new workers as soon as possible, and apparently, they don't need me for that. I came down here early in the afternoon."

"How is he?"

"Better than an hour ago," Zuko says darkly.

Katara nods understandingly. "Thanks for being here," she says.

Zuko gives an aborted kind of shrug with his shoulders. Why wouldn't he be? Nevertheless, Katara is grateful. She doesn't want Aang to be alone like this, not even for a moment. Who knows when something might happen. He does look worse today. When she presses her hand into his limp one, it's hot. There's a sheen of sweat on his brow and worry lining his features. She wants to smooth it away, but refrains, not wanting to get in Zuko's way.

"How was your meeting?" Zuko asks. "I heard there was a gathering of healers. I figured that's where you went?" As he talks, he removes a piece of cloth from Aang's forehead and dips it into the bucket next to him, squeezing it out carefully.

Katara could probably do that more effectively herself, just with her hands and the cool water, but there's something oddly relieving in watching Zuko do it instead. She doesn't notice that she hasn't replied, until Zuko looks at her expectantly, his movement paused.

"Katara?"

"Huh? Oh, I did. It was good. People are recovering quickly."

Aang stirs a little, moaning, and Katara finds his hand again. It feels even hotter than minutes ago, though that can't be possible. It's hard to keep herself from panicking. Zuko silently picks up the bucket and hands it to her over Aang's body.

She continues watching him as she cools down the water, one hand swirling over the bucket and the other clasped around it. Zuko takes the freshly cool cloth in his hand and folds it in half, pressing it back onto Aang's forehead, his other hand resting near Aang's collarbone. It's oddly sweet.

Zuko must notice her watching, because he glances up to meet her eyes, his expression caught a little off guard. "This is what uncle does," he says bluntly.

Katara laughs. "Of course," she says. It earns her a genuine smile back. She finds her mood lifted, if only just for a moment.

She notices that the rain has stopped pouring. Only a soft pitter-patter on the tin roof and the leaves of the foliage that surround the guesthouse can be heard. Almost instantaneously, the light coming through the window changes, a warm orange glow from the afternoon sun, its rays as low as the buildings. It washes through the room, making Katara squint and Zuko raise his hand to shield his forehead.

"Do you think it's a sign?" Katara says, hesitant. "That he might wake up soon?" Her voice wobbles on the end of the sentence unexpectedly.

Zuko looks at her with so much unguarded sympathy, and reaches over to put his hand over hers. She thinks of her injury from a couple of weeks ago. And how she wants to do that again - to put her hands between his, and hold on to him, to get some kind of solace from him. And then she might feel okay, and maybe Aang would be okay, and everything will go back to normal -

She presses her lips together, and squeezes Zuko's hand with hers. It makes her heart hurt.

Has she always been transgressing? Is it horrible how much comfort she wants from him?

Finally, she lets go, blinking. She tries a weak smile, "I should go get something to eat from the cafeteria. It was a long journey back. Do you want me to get you something?"

"I'd like some tea," Zuko says, his voice kind and tempered in a way that must take him real effort.

"Tea?" Katara raises her eyebrows. She can't even count how many times over the years Zuko has professed his disgust for the drink. Though she concedes that most of that was probably a result of overexposure from being around Iroh.

"I like the sweet milky one here," Zuko says, with his hands up in defence, "it actually doesn't taste like... leaf water." He frowns at his own lame description.

"Sure," she says with a smirk, refraining from rolling her eyes. She returns the bucket to his side of the mat before she leaves.

* * *

The sky outside is almost as clear as Daoshu's. The sun is even lower in the sky, casting the hillside in pink. The scene inspires some hope, a moment of calm at the end of the day. Inside the hospital cafeteria, Katara makes the decision to get seaweed noodles. She usually avoids them in favour of the region's usual rice and fish, since they're no more than a poor imitation of the Southern Water Tribe's best comfort dish, but today she can't resist.

She misses home. If Aang doesn't improve in the next couple of days, she's going to write to Sokka and see if he can spare a few days on emergency matters. There really is nothing like the unchanging support of family, especially when she can't exactly go to her best friend here to talk about things, with the way things are.

Not that Zuko isn't being amazing right now. There's something that gives her peace about knowing that there's someone here with Aang that loves him as much as she does. Dealing with people interested in _the Avatar_ is its own kind of labour, as much as she appreciates their help and interest. The most confusing thing for her right now is trying to separate how her heart swells from Zuko's sympathy to how it does for - well, for other reasons.

Still, having Zuko here makes a real difference, and she tries to focus on that.

A few of her fellow workers wave to her and she waves back. With her noodles and tea for herself and Zuko, Katara makes her way back to the guesthouse.

* * *

She doesn't get to take one step back into the room when her eyes fall on Aang through the doorway. She can't see his face from where she is, but the way his body stretches and his head twists against the pillow is unmistakable. He's awake.

When she looks up again, though, Zuko's expression makes her stop short.

The utter _relief_ lighting up his face, his _beautiful_ features.

"Zuko?" Aang says, his voice scratchy and quiet.

"Hey," Zuko says breathlessly, and Katara is still fixed on his face, how all the discipline in it evaporates instantly, replaced with a childlike concern.

"Zuko-" Aang says with more certainty, and Katara almost trips over her skirt trying to put her tray down on the nearest table in the hallway before going inside.

"It's me, Aang," Zuko is saying gently.

"Where am I? Are we in Bakai?" He tries to sit up. Zuko puts a hand at his back, and another on his torso to help him. Aang's bare skin glistens under it, sickly, but the touch stays, flat and firm and gentle.

Aang scrunches up his brows and scowls at the sunlight coming through the window.

"We are," Zuko says. Neither of them appear to have noticed her.

When she steps through, she can see that Aang's face twists into a feeble smile.

"Have you been waiting at my bedside all this time, Fire Lord?" he says weakly.

Zuko doesn't even bother responding to that comment. His hands find Aang's and he squeezes them before he puts his arms around his shoulders. Aang returns the gesture.

Maybe it's the fact that she's been on the precipice of it all week, but the simple way Zuko's hand carefully holds the back of Aang's head makes Katara want to cry. When he pulls back, his face is awash with relief that mirrors so perfectly how Katara feels inside. He looks up from Aang's shoulder, noticing her in the doorway.

She manages one measly step forward before bursting into tears.

"Katara," Aang says, turning his head fast and wincing at the very same movement.

She rushes for him. The glimpse of Zuko's face she gets before her arms are around Aang's shoulders is alarmed, even embarrassed.

"How long have I been gone?"

"Four days," Katara says, kneeling in front of him, wiping at her eyes. "I thought you might not - I even sent for someone North -"

Aang hugs her tightly. When they pull away from each other, Katara asks, "How do you feel? Do you think you can eat or drink?"

Aang looks down at himself, as if he's noticing his body for the first time. "I feel fine. Thirsty, though." He wipes off the sweat on his neck with a shiver, "and cold."

"I'll get you something," Katara says. After a long look at his face, she decides, "some herbs, too - and here, we'll go to my bed in the next room, it's much warmer there."

"I'll go," Zuko says quickly.

Katara looks up at him, but it's Aang who speaks before she dares to put her thoughts together. "Wait, Zuko," he says. "Will you stay? I have to tell you both what I saw in the Spirit World."

Zuko looks uncertainly between the two of them. Katara isn't stupid. She can tell why he's hesitant, and she's sure of it. Zuko's tender expression, just moments ago, hasn't left her mind. She looks at Aang for help, but Zuko is quicker than the both of them.

"You need rest," he says. "Really. I'll find you tomorrow, Aang. I'm glad you're safe." With a squeeze of Aang's shoulder and a clumsy hand of greeting on Katara's back, he's out of the door in a flash.


	7. Chapter 7

_Zuko has learnt that some meetings are inevitably very boring, no matter how great their significance, or what they represent. So when the first World Council on Trade between the Nations concludes, after a two-hour session on how to keep the stocks of the fisheries of the Northern Ocean balanced (in a time where seafood is rushing to United Republic restaurants), he's itching to stop talking about fried octopus and start eating it._

 _The conference, like many these days, is held in the Northern Water Tribe. With the war still a fresh wound, the Fire Nation is a complicated subject, while Republic City is only in the early stages of rebranding. The Capital here is one of the only port cities big enough to accommodate such a large number of guests._

 _The meeting finally ends. As the many representatives mill out of the room, Zuko looks around for his friends. Katara and Sokka are both here, representing their village in place of their father. Knowing Aang, however, he probably left this meeting an hour ago to distract himself with something less boring. Whatever. Aang is only ever at these things for show._

 _"Ugh," Sokka says, when Zuko catches up to them. "I need seaweed noodles."_

 _Katara pipes up, "I know a place up in the palace tiers." She glances in front of them where the spectacular Palace looms in the distance. "The food is delicious. I ate there so many times during my waterbending research trips," she explains._

 _Just as Zuko had expected, Aang flies in out of nowhere and catches up to them. "What did I miss?" he says brightly._

 _Zuko and Katara roll their eyes in unison; Sokka just morosely stares ahead, where a small stall is selling fish cakes to the attendees._

 _"What?" Aang says. "Fisheries aren't really my area…"_

 _"They're no one's_ area _, Aang," Zuko grumbles._

 _The place Katara mentioned looks a little haughty, as he would expect for something that usually serves Northern Water Tribe nobility. The man at the entrance, presumably the owner, smooths down his expensive fur. He speaks to Katara with an air of familiarity, apparently recognising her, and bows even deeper when he sees Aang next to her. Aang bows back good-naturedly in return._

 _When Zuko steps in after them, he's met with a scowl. He scans the place quickly, spotting three diplomats that he recognises from the meeting. They look glum and rigid; one Earth Kingdom representative immediately turns to whisper urgently to the Water Tribe man next to him. He then flags down the nearest waiter._

 _Zuko's heart seizes. Those people were talking politely to his face, just an hour ago. A familiar feeling makes him straighten his back. He wants to simply stride right past them, but he's with friends. He glances at them. Katara is still chatting to the owner._

 _The same waiter comes over and distracts the owner from his conversation. Zuko can see them talking, but he can't make out what they are saying. Katara's expression slowly changes to a hard frown; the owner looks guilty. Zuko steps forward, ready to defend his presence._

 _"There are other restrictions, if you don't mind," the owner is saying, with an embarrassed air. "We've had some requests from -"_

 _Katara and Aang both stiffen visibly in front of him. They were holding hands just a moment ago, but in an instant, she steps backwards and takes Zuko's arm. When Zuko glances at Aang, he sees that the politeness has left his face like it was never there._

 _"Oh no, that's fine," Katara says icily. "We'll go somewhere else."_

 _Zuko realises his fists are clenched under his sleeves. He tries to calm himself from the bitter disappointment filling him. It's an unavoidable occurrence, but that doesn't mean it doesn't frustrate him every time it happens. It's going to take time._

 _They go outside; Katara and Sokka already exclaiming their outrage, though Sokka seems more tempered in this situation than his sister. Aang falls into pace with Zuko. He puts his hand over Zuko's momentarily, squeezing his gloved fist._

 _The fierce panic, the confusing tangle of emotions that Zuko feels, begins to subside._

 _It's a strange feeling. There was no fuss about it: they simply left the place. For him. It was that easy._

* * *

When Zuko finishes his final meeting with the Daoshu Council, the sun is still high in the sky. The reconstruction project has seen a remarkable start. The planners in the council and Daoshu's best architects have been working at a furious pace with the Fire Nation engineers. More shipments of materials and metalworkers are set to arrive in a few days.

To Zuko's surprise, the Daoshu mayor herself approached him about helping with the second stage of reconstruction and the extension of the programme to Bakai and the surrounding villages. Her plan involves more building from scratch than reconstruction, a decision that will undoubtedly elicit some wariness from the locals, though Zuko knows this reaction would be very much warranted. But if he does everything right and listens to the right people and the right intentions (the mayor of Bakai comes to mind as someone who might _not_ fit that description), they'll be helping the disaster aid more than he could have ever imagined.

Even the papers all the way out in Republic City have begun to report about the reconstruction project here - the scale, the design, the perfect partnership of Fire Nation technology and Earth Kingdom resilience. Many are commenting on the fact of the Fire Nation's innovation finally being shared for something other than warmongering.

This feels like the first proper step, a long-awaited one, to securing a strong relationship with the Earth Kingdom. Zuko is more than grateful to everyone involved, and after receiving a delighted letter from Uncle suggesting as much, he feels safe to say he's pretty pleased with himself too.

It also means his work here is almost done. Tonight's ceremonial dinner party is the official end, though Zuko plans to be here for a couple more days - tying up loose ends, making sure his goodbyes are as cordial as can be, both here and in Bakai, and saving enough time to search for some exotic Earth Kingdom teas to take back to Uncle.

And to see Aang and Katara.

He hasn't met with either of them for almost a week, which is a glaring oddity in his schedule. He has no good excuse for it - he has been busy, but no busier than when he was juggling the arrangements for the arrival of the Fire Nation aid and looking after Aang at the same time. He still isn't aware of the reasons for Aang's prolonged time in the Spirit World, though he has heard word through the councillors here that Aang did find out the reason for the earthquake.

He hasn't been able to bring himself to think about it right now, with everything else that's going on - those feelings, and the absurd notions they put in his head. He'll see them at the big dinner tonight, and pray that whatever strange longing that's been building up is gone by then. The tentative excitement he feels of finally getting something so significant right in the eyes of the other nations, at making the Fire Nation a force for good, is what's filling him with hope right now, so he'll focus on that. He can deal with everything else later.

Or never. He has to keep reminding himself: Katara and Aang have everything in the world including each other. There's a world of difference between what's at stake for him, and for them. He _has_ to be imagining whatever is going on between them, no matter how much it feels like he isn't - and even if he isn't, what's the use?

It's almost time to return to the Fire Nation, too, and maybe going back to the normal state of things will help rid him of such indulgent ideas.

That's all there is to it.

* * *

The town hall is transformed for the dinner; the sliding stone doors of conference rooms stacked away to create one large space. Flower garlands are strung up in every corner, and temporary statues of stone are erected around its corners, showing grand figures out of the region's myths and legends. It reminds Zuko of the ice sculptures in the Water Tribes' snow festivals. It's a beautiful sight, admittedly, but Zuko feels a little awkward about it - he knows he's a big part of the reason why they're making such a big deal tonight.

The evening begins with speeches. When it's Zuko's turn, the Mayor introduces him with barely concealed admiration. Half of Zuko's job revolves around making speeches, but he's never been a natural at them. He spots several familiar faces from the past few weeks down in the tables, both with earnest smiles and merely polite ones. Aang's is the brightest. There's something utterly charming, easy about Aang, that noticing his rapt attention makes addressing the crowd a little more leisurely for Zuko than it usually is. Katara sits next to him, gazing up at the stage with her chin in her hand, looking simply like she's just happy to sit there, for once.

After the speeches are done, Zuko makes small talk with various council members and other important folk, until he's finally left alone when the food is brought out. The crowd is noisy, snatches of laughter and loud conversation picking up in the breeze. Zuko enjoys it immensely. Nowhere, in any event he went to as a child, was so much liveliness allowed, even after the fire whiskey made its rounds. And it's hardly changed since - he thinks it must be something innate to Fire Nation aristocracy, how austere they are. By contrast, even the biggest names in charge here in Daoshu laugh freely. It's a nice change.

Aang catches up to him after shedding his own little crowd. Zuko notices how formally he's dressed - he _still_ doesn't understand why Aang thinks the cape is a good choice. Aang leads him outside to the balcony, apparently deciding that it's too loud inside for whatever he wants to say. His eyes are as bright as they were throughout the speeches. He looks completely alive, as he did on his wedding day.

"You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," Zuko says. The air out here is cool, and it helps Zuko ground himself.

Aang smiles in acknowledgement. "So," he says, wasting no time, "What's it like being the hottest thing in town tonight?"

And just like that, the charm is gone. Zuko sighs, a sound deliberately more long-suffering that he really feels. "Jealous, huh?"

Aang smirks, looking at him strangely. Zuko could swear that he's being observed head to toe, or maybe it's the glare from the lights making him imagine things.

"I might be," Aang says.

"I've had the spotlight for one day, and you're already whining?" He clucks his tongue with disapproval. "Not a good look for the Avatar, I have to say."

Aang laughs, what sounds like a perfunctory gesture, but he doesn't reply. He just looks openly at Zuko's face, his head tilted slightly and his expression sombre.

Zuko can see everything in it: the strange flirting, the evening of the festival, that afternoon in the guesthouse. The days and the years. He swallows.

He knows he isn't imagining it. Nothing weighs heavier on him than his own confusion.

Finally, Aang snaps himself out of it with a shake of his head. He runs a hand over his own face with a rueful smile, and reaches for Zuko. Zuko accepts the hug that follows, even though his heart is beating oddly fast. He doesn't know whether Aang notices that, but he hugs Zuko even tighter, and that's one sentiment in which there is no confusion at all: Zuko almost can't stand the pride in him that Aang radiates.

After they part, Aang is looking at him again. One of his hands aimlessly wanders to Zuko's shoulder, finding the collar of his tunic. He adjusts it. When Zuko looks down to check that that his outfit is still all in place, Aang catches his chin briefly. An inconsequential touch, the length of a second.

"I told you," he says, and the joke is gone from his voice. "Everyone will come to know you're awesome, it doesn't matter how long it takes." He steps back, adjusting his own cape, eyes not meeting Zuko's.

Zuko joins him in looking at the floor.

"You are sticking around for a few days, right?" Aang asks. The question sounds loud to Zuko, despite the fact that he can hear the buzz of the dinner just metres away.

"Yeah."

"I am too. Katara needs a little more time to finish up in Bakai, and I want to spend some time in Daoshu," he says, pointedly.

"We'll see each other," Zuko says.

The breeze rustles his hair. What an idiotic thing to say. They're friends. They're _them_. Of course they'll _see_ each other.

Aang doesn't seem to notice. "You're probably gonna be busy," he says, looking out over the balcony in front of him. "But I think we'll come by the Palace soon. Katara and I haven't had a real honeymoon yet."

That again. He's heard it from both Aang and Katara - and despite what he told Katara weeks ago - he doesn't think it would be a good idea anymore. Not with everything that's happened since. He would have seen it as a way to challenge himself before, to be truly happy for them (he _is_ ) and be proud to host the celebration of their marriage at his doorstep, but he doesn't trust himself anymore. He doesn't trust himself to feel _okay_ about it, and he knows Aang and Katara don't deserve that.

Zuko nods and twists his mouth into a smile. "Really? You think the Royal Palace is an ideal honeymooning spot? You want duties in the court, too? I can give you some."

Aang laughs, looking sheepish. "Or Ember Island. You know what I'm saying." He pauses. "As long as we get to hang out with you a little."

Zuko smiles at him. After a while, he says, "Let's go back inside."

He could swear that they've only been gone for ten minutes, but by the time they've gotten back inside, the party is in full swing. Those who have finished eating are already milling around the stage, the floor, chatting vibrantly, drinking and dancing. Aang is swept in easily, and soon enough, he's the centre of attention of a small crowd. Katara's healers who are present are cheering for a newlyweds' dance, pushing them together.

Zuko picks a spot out of the way to watch. Katara - clearly the drunker of the two right now - jokes and smiles with her friends, and slowly sidles up to Aang. Aang scratches the back of his head, embarrassed, and Zuko can practically see what's going through his head - that bashful part of him lingering from the balcony just now fighting with the part that wants attention. Expectably, he gives in quickly. Someone strikes up a fast tune on a liuqin. Katara and Aang dance, keeping up remarkably well, excitable smiles flowing like her long skirt and his silly cape.

Zuko doesn't know any two people that would be easier to fall in love with. He doesn't know if he should get a whiskey or not.

* * *

A while later into the evening, Zuko takes the chance to sneak out of the party to give Druk his meal. When he arrived, weeks ago, he politely declined the offer of his aides to tend to Druk, an incident at the palace where Druk singed a hole through a stablehand's robe at the forefront of his mind. Zuko has always worked under the impression that all dragons are temperamental, and Druk fits that bill quite easily. He himself seems to be the only person who can get away with not aggravating him. While Druk eats, Zuko pats down his monstrous brow, earning a satisfied gurgle of approval. He discards one finished container of meat and picks up another.

Despite the selfish sadness he feels, from the dancing, and the weird gravity of his conversation with Aang earlier, he doesn't want to end this evening on a bad note. Fresh air is the perfect antidote to that.

Faint footsteps coming down from the courtyard alert him to another presence. It's Katara, barefoot. She runs up to him with a wide smile, the sight so pleasant that he can't help his spirits lift, despite the fact that he came out here to be alone. Zuko has a matter of seconds to drop the pail of raw meat in his hands before Katara throws her arms around him. Druk grunts behind him, busy eating.

"There you are! Why do I have to wander away from the dinner all the way to the stables, of all places, to find you?"

Zuko laughs lightly. The cropped cut of her blouse, and his sleeves rolled from feeding Druk, means they're skin to skin when he wraps his arms around her waist.

Katara squeezes her hold on him with a sigh. "Oh. Your speech was great! You were _so_ good, Zuko. You did - you were so… _good._ "

"How much have you had to drink?"

Katara's eyes are glittering. She leans back with a laugh. "Only a little. Hey, let me be happy at the nice things. And come back in! We're dancing."

"I'll wait for Druk to finish," he says. He smiles genuinely back at her. There's an unbridled sweetness about Katara in moments like this that Zuko feels so happy to be privy to, the times when the weight of the world isn't on her shoulders.

"I'm being serious, Zuko. You've done amazing things here." She cups her hand around his face for a moment before dropping it and picking at his collar. "Aang said you're leaving in a couple of days?"

Oh. Right. At the mention of him, Zuko notices that his arms are still wrapped snug around her waist. She's been talking up at him. Maybe he's had more to drink than he realised. He pulls himself out of her grasp gently.

"Yup. I should be out of here by the end of the week."

"Oh," she says, "well, we'll have to hang out before you do! And maybe... wait. I'll ask Aang about that first." She pauses to think, eyes set. It's adorable. "...actually we did kind of talk a little about it before, way back when we first arrived here. I thought we could go to the palace after this."

"Yeah, you told me before." Zuko smiles to himself. This conversation feels like deja vu in more ways than one. It makes him feel warm. Like he fits there, somehow. He can let her down gently later.

She urges on, with boundless energy, "I really am so proud of you, Zuko. You - the Fire Nation - it's all because of you - and this is just one thing at the end of a _long_ line, really - I really-"

She can't seem to figure out her whole sentence, which is more endearing than it has any right to be. Zuko understands immediately, however. When Katara talks about anything to do with the reforming of the Fire Nation's place in the world, she's deadly serious. And when Zuko thinks about the very same topic, it's easy to admit her experience is one of the things that centres him the most. Motivates him the most. She knows that by now. There's no point in repeating any of those conversations.

He does anyway. The night has him on edge. "I owe you guys for that, more than anything."

Katara stops short, observes him for a moment, and nods. She doesn't counter that. Zuko is grateful for it. Aang would have countered it - he always said it, it was Zuko's own will, there was something inside Zuko that had always known what was right. But there wasn't. He had to learn it, forge it, the hard way. He's still learning. And every moment, every person that has made that journey clearer means the world to him. And no one more than the two of them, in their own ways.

It's nice of her to acknowledge their part, something that Aang is too humble to do.

"Why don't you come back inside?" She says lightly.

Zuko nods. "Give me a minute to put all this away." He gestures to the empty pails of meat next to Druk.

Katara scrunches her nose dramatically. "Ah, it stinks of raw meat here. I didn't even notice."

Zuko shakes his head. More than a few drinks, then. He playfully tips a bucket towards Katara on his way to emptying its bloody remains. She gasps and jumps out of its way, before finding her balance again with a disgruntled look. She crosses her arms. "You better not stink when you're dancing with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Zuko says over his shoulder.

"And you better wash your hands before you touch my husband. He's got principles."

Zuko's head whips back to her, his face hot. What kind of - ?

Katara laughs brightly. "Come on, I'm your first dance." Her eyes are playful. She meets him again by wrapping her arms sweetly around his torso, "I'll make sure you're in good condition."


	8. Chapter 8

_Aang leaps backwards on instinct._

 _A thick, briny scent like seaweed fills his nostrils. He blinks opens bleary eyes to find heavy shapes swirling and shifting around him. They ripple and roll through each other like waves in a storm. Waves. It feels like water, but he can breathe. He tries to blink away his disorientation. He has been here before. It's a vast ocean of fog, the very same one he came to on his first day travelling into the Spirit World to search for clues about the cause of the earthquake._

 _But something is different. When he examines his surroundings, he realises there's a glaring discrepancy from his last visit. No creature peeks out of the fog, or floats towards him with colourful fins swishing. He sees none of the little spirits that had helped him, that had told him where to go and where he was and how to find the namazu._

 _Spotting the shape of the distant peaks of mountains, he knows it's the same place, but today it is barren save for the monstrous shape in front of him, even though his memory tells him how much brighter and filled with life it was before._

 _A great roaring noise brings him to his senses._

 _The namazu stirs its whiskers - long, slick black tendrils each the size of Aang's body - slowly in the mist._

 _"You finally came to see me, Avatar." A statement, not a question. Aang can't tell if he's actually being spoken to, because the humongous protruding face of the creature doesn't move. He expected something low, but the voice that reverberates in his head is sharp, like a scraping sound. The namazu watches him with a bored expression._

 _"I was having trouble," Aang says, and his own voice seems to float too, strange in his ears. "Why are you causing the earthquakes?"_

 _The creature grunts. "Me? I'm only trying to get comfortable," it says. The monstrous fin along its belly sweeps the blackened fog, as if to make a point, sending a brackish surge in Aang's direction._

 _"You caused a huge earthquake here. Just weeks ago," Aang says, standing tall and straight even as the fog obstructs his senses. In his limited experience, mighty Spirits tend to respond well to shows of confidence._

 _"Weeks?" the creature muses._

 _Aang feels impatient, tries to calm himself. Weeks, it wouldn't know. Right. There's a keen sense of panic that he can't shed, though his mind is hazy as to why. He looks at his hands; he can see the water right through their translucence._

 _Why the panic?_

 _He forces himself to think through the fog seeping in his brain, catching glimpses of the physical world, until he remembers. 'Just… just now, I think, there was another one."_

 _He was with Katara. Was she okay? He has to get back soon._

 _The creature grumbles noncommittally._

 _Aang works his foggy brain. How long has this Spirit lived? What terms can he make it understand? He closes his eyes and tries to recall all the research. The namazu, a giant catfish-shaped creature said to curl up in the vast oceans of the Spirit World. Though it lives in the Spirit fog, it is bound to its form; it can only breathe and swim in physical oceans. It exists on the cusp, switching between them; like the Avatar, breaching the boundary between the worlds. All the stories in the Earth Kingdom and all the spirits say it is responsible for the earth shaking, though no one has seen the elusive creature long enough to figure out why._

 _"You said you need to breathe… to swim around? In the physical world?" But if that was its normal routine, how could it be suddenly responsible for something so catastrophic like an earthquake?_

 _"Well, of course. You should not admonish me. The flow between our worlds was muted for a hundred years, trapping me on this side. Forgive me for taking a big stretch when I finally could."_

 _"Wait. A hundred years?" Aang says, blinks his thoughts into clarity. That makes sense. "When I was under the ice, there was no Avatar for a hundred years. And it was only ten years ago, when I came back - so that was the first time you, uh..." he pauses, searching for the words, "moved around? In more than one hundred years?"_

 _The namazu wriggles its whiskers, as if through impatience. Though Aang feels like he just had a crucial revelation, he senses the creature is getting more bored of the conversation by the minute._

 _"It's quite simple," it says, like a teacher explaining something to a particularly obtuse child, "I enjoy it when I get to swim around and breathe as I like. But when the exchange between the worlds is low, I am confined to my spot, until I can't take it anymore. Then I must adjust myself on reflex, whether it is a gentle process or not."_

 _"So… what you're saying is, when the worlds are connected, you move around more easily? And the more frequently you get to move, the smaller the earthquakes?"_

 _The namazu bobs its head in a great nod. Relief washes over Aang just like the rolling purple fog displaced by the movement. That's it. That makes complete sense._

 _"I have another question," Aang says quickly, emboldened by the creature's nonchalance. Aang senses that it is well aware of what earthquakes entail, so he doesn't push his luck. Spirits truly are amoral creatures. "Why is it so dark and quiet here? What happened to all the other Spirits?"_

 _Another swish of its tail and a confused grunt._

 _"The surroundings we see are of our own making," the creature says. "What is in your mind you will see manifest in this world." Right, Aang knows that. He figures that the namazu itself must be a thousand times bigger than it's showing itself as for Aang's benefit._

 _"So why is everything so grey?"_

 _"You tell me, Avatar. I am feeling just fine."_

* * *

Katara needs to know.

The ceremony is almost over, with only a few people left sitting around the tables in the middle of the hall, talking in hushed tones as their tiredness from a long night takes over. Aang converses idly with a still-drunk, but subdued, Katara. He doesn't feel too clear in the head himself, but something has been weighing him down tonight that's beyond the reach of any whiskey. Katara picks up little pieces of sugared sweets from an ornate tray in the middle, one by one, and eats them. Her hair is somewhat dishevelled from the dancing, stray locks falling in front of her face. She pauses occasionally to brush the strands behind her ear, though not so carefully that they don't fall out again. Whenever the conversation stills - slow, giggly musings on the business plan of the new Cabbage Corp back home being the topic right now - Aang's mind returns to one thing.

He has to tell her.

He can't really think of any compelling reason to convince himself why he shouldn't, no matter how much he wants to run from the idea of upsetting his relationship with Katara. There is a breaking point somewhere with Zuko - one he definitely came close to tonight - beyond which lies a useless kind of heartache that Aang doesn't want to suffer. It just wouldn't make sense to. He can _feel_ it, with Zuko, it's all there, and it hasn't ever gone away.

It really is awful to keep seeing him like this. If even a bored Spirit can sense Aang's unease, something has to be done.

If Katara knew, would she care? Sometimes Aang wonders - _does_ she know? He watches her try to tuck a strand of hair back into her hair grip, and miss, before reaching behind and doing it himself. Katara glances up; a sheepish smile of thanks.

Would she think it was too much? Or would she see it the same way she herself loves Zuko: plainly, deeply, in a way Aang can sympathise all too well with but at the same time borne from their unique experience.

He saw them together that evening of the festival. Saw _her_. Katara hasn't been able hide her emotion from him for years, and it feels odd, foreign, to know that she was trying to. He almost brought it up the morning after, but he chickened out at the last minute. The notion that they're hiding from each other over this hovers in his mind like an impossible kind of release - too impossible, maybe. He needs to keep himself together. There are more important things - like making sure he and Katara don't end up hurting each other, or Zuko.

"Where's Zuko?" she says suddenly, sitting upright.

Aang coughs. Caught red-handed. "He went to see off the Mayor," he says. But it's been a while since he left. "Maybe he's walking her to her building?"

Katara raises her brows in exaggerated surprise. "Who would have thought that Zuko would end up so good at… etiquette?"

Aang rolls his eyes and grins. "At sucking up to the Mayor?"

Katara stops in the middle of plopping a sweet into her mouth to shake her head at him. "Oh, why do you care? You've had your chance to impress them," she says, eyes twinkling.

"I _did_ impress them," Aang says. With honours from the mayors of both towns to show for it - as awkward as it was to smile along to what felt like hours of profuse flattery from the Mayor of Bakai when he returned from the Spirit World. Zuko definitely got the good end of the bargain when it came to their hosts.

He picks out a stray lock of hair and pokes her cheek with it, putting on a hard frown and an offended tone. "Why are you taking his side? You've been doing that all night."

Katara sighs. "Let that _go_. Just because I danced with him more than you doesn't mean I'm on his side. He's the guest of honour," she says, smirking. "Besides, you saw how terrified he was. I wanted to teach him."

Aang narrows his eyes and says, "Whatever. You just wanted him all to yourself."

A statement strange enough to test the waters. Aang tries to keep his heartbeat steady.

"Maybe I did, since you're always running off with him," Katara says easily. The sly smile she tries doesn't hold, and after a moment, they're both giggling.

She slides her foot under the table towards Aang, clearing her throat. "I had a discussion with the other healers. Most of them are leaving next week, but we talked it over tonight - while you were hoarding Zuko, I might add - and I'm going to head off a few days earlier. I want to get to the conference of healers in the North so I can participate in the bloodbending discussions, before they start officially."

Aang sits up at this. "Do you know what your stance is going to be?"

"I think so," Katara says firmly, sounding remarkably not inebriated all of a sudden. "They were right." She looks directly at him, but her eyes feel far away. "It doesn't have to be dangerous. And it doesn't feel as- as _wrong_ as I remembered," she adds quietly.

Aang swallows. He might be imagining the way she emphasises that, but most likely not.

"So, if I've only got a couple of days left here, why don't we go somewhere tomorrow? We haven't explored this part of the Earth Kingdom. We could catch up, just me and you."

 _Catch up._

There's a brief commotion at the entrance. Aang nods his understanding, meeting her imploring eyes - the best they can do before the object of their veiled discussion returns.

"What did I miss?" Zuko says.

"Katara just said she's had enough of you, so we're going to get out of here and go on a day trip tomorrow," Aang replies.

Zuko, a second out of sync from carrying out formalities, says, "Uh, what?"

Aang laughs brightly and kicks out a seat for him with a deft gust of air. Zuko sits. Katara leans forwards on her elbows and immediately engulfs him in conversation. Aang takes a turn at the desserts. He eats and watches them, Katara ribbing at Zuko's manners around the Mayor and Zuko rebuffing her comments with remarkable ease now that he's caught up with their teasing remarks. His hair is a little messy like Katara's, dark strands escaping the elaborate ponytail thing.

Aang wants so much to just brush those pieces back in place. Or simply kiss the smile off his face. Either would be nice.

But this whole situation is a delicate balance. Zuko deserves better than idle drunken advances. And Katara sure as hell deserves a proper explanation. He slumps back into his chair and watches them talk, Katara's hands making animated gestures on the table. Zuko's eyes glance down at them occasionally.

They _all_ need to be able to talk about whatever's going on here.

* * *

The next morning, Aang visits the Council in Daoshu one final time before heading down to pick up Katara. The councilmen take copious notes about everything he recounts - pinpointing the source of the earthquakes seems to be a great relief for them all, but nothing Aang found out was more valuable than the Spirit's insistence that smaller earthquakes prevented larger ones - several of their geologists thanked him personally for that piece of information.

With his job done, Aang has no plans except a long day of exploring with Katara. It's something they do whenever they have the chance to be together, in whatever part of the world they find themselves in. Aang remembers the way they met - penguin sledding practically before any sort of real introduction - and exploring with Katara gives him the same giddy feeling as it always has. They take Appa on a ride over the town, stopping to marvel at everything, from something as small as a street bender or a pretty garden to whole festivals and earthbending tournaments. They stop at the hamlets in the outskirts of Daoshu Province to eat traditional food, Katara's unquenchable delight at fresh-caught koi making Aang's measly option of yet more sauteed vegetables worth it. Aang wishes there were elephant koi in this part of the Earth Kingdom so they could have some real fun. By late afternoon, they've ventured outwards into the mountains, Appa lazily circling the area for somewhere to land.

"I know a place around here with a beautiful view," Aang says. He tries to recall the route he followed Zuko on a few weeks ago, leading them into the secluded outcrop on the mountainside. The towns below are just as beautiful as he remembered, if not prettier in the late afternoon sun, draping the tallest buildings and trees in deep golden light.

" _Wow,_ " Katara says as they land, sliding down Appa's tail and running to the edge for a better view. "This is incredible! I can even see the hospital." He watches her trace the route from one town to the next, the roads and buildings far away yet crisp. "When did you find this?"

"Zuko showed me," Aang says, dismounting Appa, who immediately makes himself comfortable on the cool stony surface in the shade of a tree and closes his eyes. Aang leans against him, shielding his eyes from the sun, watching Katara against the brilliant backdrop. "He brought me here, actually. A few weeks back, when I was having a hard time. He really cheered me up."

She straightens visibly. After a moment, she turns back to him, walking slowly into the shade. Aang tries to stop his heart picking up.

She sits opposite him, crossing her legs with care. "I… actually wanted to ask you about something. About Zuko."

"What is it?"

There's no way to escape it now that they've both stumbled into this conversation. Now that Aang brought her to this exact place. Maybe it's what he wanted.

In front of him, Katara releases a nervous breath, touching his knee with hers lightly. Maybe it's what she wanted.

He lets her gather her thoughts: Katara's eyes flit back and forth, clearly trying hard to figure out what she wants to say. While the seconds pass Aang can't help his mind run through a series of scenarios, confessions and contradictions.

Finally, she looks right at him, eyes sharp and clear as the sky, and says, "You love him, don't you?"

When Aang feels steady enough, untangling his sweating hands from a clump of Appa's fur, he lets out a measured breath. "Well, yeah."

There's a rising plea in Katara's eyes for a better answer than _that_. But oddly for her, it's not a demand. Aang reaches out his hand to where hers is resting between them, and gently grasps it. He knows they've been building to this, the two of them, from the way Katara suggested this excursion and if he's honest, probably for a lot longer than that.

Still, under her pressing gaze, it's hard to admit it when it comes down to it: the only thing about him Katara hasn't been allowed to know. "Don't _you?_ "

Katara makes an aborted motion like she's about to sigh in frustration, but she catches herself, casting her eyes down - it's just not the answer she wanted. "Of course. But that's not what I meant, Aang." She presses on, her voice so earnest it's almost a whisper. "I had this feeling, when you woke up after you came back from the Spirit World, do you remember?"

Aang waits with bated breath.

"And Zuko was there with you...the look on his face - I thought he was going to -"

"To what?" Aang says, and it comes out too high, way too curious. But he knows what. He feels heat crawling up his neck. Katara looks almost painfully in thought again, but nothing worse than that. He squeezes her hand encouragingly.

"I almost thought you two would kiss," she admits, "You were just so..."

Aang stops short, his heart beating fast with the effort to comprehend a conversation that feels like it might escape out of his grasp. He's scared. "Katara?"

She looks up and Aang knows that she sees it in his eyes the moment she does. "It's okay," she says imploringly. "I've thought so for a long time, actually." She gets up, agitated, does one round of the clearing and sits back down. "I understand how you feel," she says, almost wringing her hands. "I love him so much. I love him _so_ much, too. I've never felt like that about anyone. Except you."

Aang's head whips up to meet her eyes. The confusion flooding them reflects the wrenching feeling in his chest, and moments pass as they sit there in suffocating silence.

"Is that okay?" she whispers.

Aang feels dizzy. How could she think that? How could she say _that_ to him, and not think the same applies to her? That he would -? It's crazy.

"What? Of course," he scrambles to say, and Katara puts both of her hands back in his, and Aang holds on tight, even though his hands are slippery. "Of _course_. I believe you."

At that, Katara throws her arms around his shoulders. Aang wraps his arms around her, feels the tremble of her breath under his hands, and talks, his mind reeling. "You know, the air nomads never thought that way about families. About who you love, I mean. It's not - it's not a big deal to me. I-I mean, it _is_ \- you are, but it's okay if you love him, because sometimes it just happens that way, and I-I do too, so much, Katara- I didn't think it-"

She shushes him with a hand around the back of his neck, and a gasp of laughter bubbles out of her, mercifully breaking the tension. Aang buries his head in her shoulder.

Aang is content to hold on to her. They've managed it - that impossible, unthinkable hurdle. After a moment, she squeezes him hard, pressing a small kiss against his cheekbone, before saying gently, "Well, who loved him first? You think we should battle it out for the Fire Lord's hand?"

It feels crazy to hear those words out loud. Aang cracks a smile. Playing tug of war with Zuko. Now _that's_ absurd. He tells her as much, and they share a giggle. The laughter doesn't last, though, and for once, Aang doesn't want it to. This needs to be a serious conversation, enough to convey the seriousness of his intentions.

"What do you think we should do?"

Katara becomes pensive again. "I want to tell him," she says.

Aang smiles slowly at where this is going. It feels like a dream. Katara mirrors him with utter openness, miles away from her cagey demeanour at the start of this conversation.

"Do you think we could be- that we could all be… you know, together?" he says shyly.

Katara smiles again, the sun glowing in her reddening cheeks. "That would be nice."

Understatement of the year. The blush in her face tells him she agrees.

"He has to decide," she continues, "about what he wants to do with that information." Her voice betrays the nervousness she feels at the thought.

It feels so strange, and so good, to have his exact worries reflected back in her. But Aang thinks this is where he differs: he's felt for a long time like he can predict Zuko's reactions to things.

But even he's going to struggle to predict Zuko's reaction to _this._ This is unprecedented.

Katara worms her way under his arm, so she's leaning against Appa too. He's never been more grateful for her in his life, a thought that occurs with alarming regularity. Katara's hair skims against his face, as soothing as the breeze, as the gentle twilight falling over the valley and the buzz of the crickets far below. Appa rumbles comfortably, close to them.

"Let's go," Aang says, after a while. They stick close to each other on the journey back. Katara kneels along the edge of Appa's saddle, pointing out quirks in the landscape and up in the stars, but she always comes back to Aang, putting her arms around his waist and leaning against him. Appa grunts in recognition as he soars towards the city.

Aang entertains them both, scritching Appa's fur between the reins, leaning back into Katara's embrace so he can look up at the sky and see what she's talking about. This is the freest he has felt in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

_Dear Zuko,_

 _It's a shame to hear about the delays. I hope you're doing alright regardless of all that. Planning to overhaul whole industries must be very stressful. But Iroh is right, you should take your time. Now that I think about it, there are mechanics in Ba Sing Se your council could definitely consult, at least on the topic of transferring technology. I'll have someone send a telegram to the palace with the addresses right now._

 _You were right about the blueprint for the firebending chambers - Lao was getting carried away with all the symbolic flourishes as usual, but I convinced him to be a little more practical and go with the open plan courtyards. There are going to be kids running around, we can't have the school burning down before it's even finished! Sadly I'll only be in the City for a couple more weeks - I'm going back South to check the school projects there. I would have loved to see you!_

 _Love,_

 _Katara_

...

 _Dear Zuko,_

 _I told you they would be helpful! Ah where would your post-war economy be without me? I'm sorry for the late reply, we just got back from Ember Island. But I do have some big news! I'm sure Aang will want to tell you when you two are in Republic City next week, so just pretend you haven't heard this, because I just can't wait that long! We're getting married! Don't tell anyone yet, obviously, all that official press can wait._

 _I really wish you could have come to Ember Island. I know it technically hasn't been that long but sometimes it feels like I haven't seen you in years._

 _Love,_

 _Katara_

 _P.s. I'm attaching Sokka's drawing of all of us at the beach since you couldn't come! He's insisting this is an "official engagement family portrait" but most importantly, if my eyeballs have to be subjected to this, then so do yours._

...

 _His Royal Highness Fire Lord Zuko,_

 _It is with great delight that_

 _Avatar Aang_

 _and_

 _Katara of the Southern Water Tribe_

 _request the honour of your presence at the celebration of their marriage._

 _Please see overleaf for details of the date, time and address._

 _Dear Zuko,_

 _Did you get the invite!? It looks pretty fancy, doesn't it? We wanted to ask you if you could be a witness at the wedding. Sokka's going to be one of course, and Aang wants Bumi, but we kind of both picked you first so it would mean so much! Please say you'll be able to make it! I know how busy you are right now, but it just wouldn't feel right without you. We won't fix any dates until you reply._

 _Love,_

 _Katara_

* * *

"Is that everything?" Ina's voice yells from inside the guesthouse.

Katara surveys her bags and mentally checks off her list. In the aftermath of the first earthquake, she hadn't had time to pack much for her trip to the Earth Kingdom: a couple of changes of clothes, her water pouch, and a spare hair grip were all the essentials she had gathered in that frenzied night they received the news. She seems to have accumulated more during her stay - the bags packed full of scrolls and notepads with scribbles regarding technique and treatment, along with little knick-knacks and presents from her patients and their families. All that remains inside the guesthouse is a small mountain of herbs from the apothecary that need to be specially wrapped in their own packages.

"I think we're good!" Katara yells back.

Ina appears in the doorway. "So, when are you leaving for the North?"

Katara squints at her as she walks out into the late morning sun; Ina follows her into the clearing where Appa is bathing in its warmth. "I'm staying with Aang in Daoshu tonight," she says. "And I'll be off with Appa early in the morning. If all goes well, I'll be staying three days in the North."

Appa moos as if on cue, earning a friendly lean and a ruffle of his fur from Ina. "So we might be able to meet back up in Republic City afterwards?"

"Hm. Maybe. I was actually planning to have our honeymoon after that," Katara says. She's leaving her fellow healer in charge for the remaining days that they are here, but she has no worries. The patient count in the hospital has been dwindling for weeks; there are more outpatients than ever. She gives Ina a fleeting smile. "I don't know. We'll see."

Ina draws her brows together. "You seem a bit distracted. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm nervous," Katara says without thinking.

Ina nods knowingly. "That's understandable. This isn't going to be like any conference before. These kind of ideas about bloodbending - well, it's just completely unprecedented, isn't it? And people will be looking to see what you say more than anyone else."

"I guess you're right," Katara says, nodding to her bags.

When she looks up, Ina gives her a strange look followed by a smile. "You're going to be just fine, _Master_ Katara."

Katara grins. Just as she prepares to heave her luggage onto Appa's saddle, Aang appears in a rustle of leaves, swirling them up through in the wind from his glider.

"Good morning, ladies," he says, leaping onto Appa's back. He closes his glider back into a staff and takes the bag from Katara.

Katara leaves him chatting to Ina while she goes back inside to check her room one final time. She can't help but feel anxious. About the convention, sure, but about what lays between now and then even more. They have one day, _today,_ to tell Zuko. After much nervous deliberation they decided they would have to tell him before they leave. There would be no point in dragging this out - Katara's going to be in the North, Zuko back in the Fire Nation, and Aang back in Republic City all so quickly after this. And if they waited until their trip to the Fire Nation, that would certainly make for a strange excursion. Mostly, she doesn't think she can stand waiting.

Aang _definitely_ can't.

She bites down a smile thinking about the sheer relief she had seen in his eyes the previous day. Her hunches had been right. The knowledge that she's always been able to read him only feels reassuring. Was it really that simple?

To say nothing of the way Aang had seemed to intuit how she felt. The realisation leaves Katara a little surprised - she didn't realise that she had been so easy to read - but in hindsight, she should have known better than to think she could hide something like that from her closest companion. Now that it's out, the notion is almost impossible: how could she _possibly_ hide how she feels about Zuko; a thing so vibrant and ceaseless?

When she returns with her final package of herbs, Ina is gone, and Aang is looking at her curiously from his perch on Appa.

"I saw Zuko," he says matter-of-factly, hovering the package easily above his hands before depositing it Appa's saddle. He ducks behind Appa's tail to retrieve the ropes to keep Katara's bags fastened to the saddle. "This morning. He's leaving tomorrow, too."

"You saw him this _morning?_ It's morning now."

Aang blinks confusedly. "Earlier this morning, Katara. We had breakfast together."

Katara rolls her eyes goodnaturedly. Firebenders and their early mornings. She wants to say something snide about him hoarding Zuko, again, but there's a more pressing curiosity. She can't help the shyness that overcomes her next words, "Did you… say anything?"

Aang glances at her and away again, fastening the bags. Katara observes him, surprising herself with how eagerly she tries to read his reaction. It's oddly delightful to see that shyness mirrored in him. She hasn't seen him this bashful since they were teenagers, and there's a giddy entertainment that rises in her at the notion, even through her anxiety.

"I um, I just told him that we'd come and see him today," Aang says.

He can't contain his grin, and neither can she. "Then let's go."

* * *

They succeed in making a pretence of walking through Daoshu, admiring the atmosphere of the town centre, walking up the main avenue that leads up to the diplomatic quarters up the slope of the mountain. Katara hasn't been here since the festival, so it's strange to see the area stripped of all decorations, cleared of the destruction.

When they reach Zuko's guesthouse, there's an aide stationed outside.

He eyes Aang a little warily, like they have had a similar encounter before. "His Royal Highness is due to fly out tomorrow morning," he says in an even voice. "He has asked not to be disturbed this afternoon while he wraps up personal matters."

"I know, but, uh, it's important," Aang says, shifting, barely staying on his feet. "It's, uh, Avatar business," he smiles. "I'm the Avatar."

Katara puts her head in her hand. "What he _means_ is, we're here on personal matters. Could you please tell him that we're here to see him?"

The poor aide looks confused about which of those things might be true, and appears to let them in based on that fact more than anything. As they enter, Aang whispers to her, "I already used that excuse." Katara belatedly wonders why they bothered: Zuko had shown them how to use the back entrance from the courtyard anyway. This doesn't bode well for either her or Aang's nerves.

Zuko pokes his head through the hallway curtain and waves them through. He's in much the same state that Katara was this morning, packing up. "I thought you guys wouldn't be here until the evening," he says.

"Are you busy?" Katara asks. She gets a quick, awkward hug out of him, stepping over luggage. Zuko gives her a strange look, gesturing to the corner of the room with some free space for her to sit. Katara would be lying if she didn't feel a little self-conscious about it. Now that the prospect of being with Zuko is actually on the table, she feels jumpy being in his presence. She could laugh at herself. Aang's not the only one acting like a teenager.

"Not really. I'm just packing these for Uncle," Zuko says, holding up two enormous bricks of tea wrapped in bamboo leaf.

"Oh, we're staying in Daoshu tonight anyway," Aang says bluntly. "But we thought we'd come and see you earlier."

Zuko seems to hesitate, the tea idle in his hands. After a moment, he says, "In that case, you can join me for lunch with the Mayor. She'd probably be ecstatic to have you."

Aang's face falls a little. Katara tries to keep hers even. "Okay," she says. "Sure. _Fine_. We'll help you impress the Mayor with our presence." She grins.

Zuko smiles at her, but it's a cursory gesture. She can't help but feel that there's something he isn't saying.

The Mayor had invited Zuko to lunch in one of the restaurants in the diplomatic quarter of the town, close to the guesthouse. It's fancier than in Bakai, but much more integrated into the rest of the town. On the way, they pass the large building next to the town hall where the dinner party had been held. Again, it's the first time Katara has seen it since she was there, the first time in broad daylight. She smiles at the memory of dancing with Zuko, a little embarrassed. That was probably the most obvious she has ever been. It would be a miracle if Aang _hadn't_ known by then. Not to mention how much she had delighted in the way they'd talked about Zuko together, too. As if it was the most natural thing.

It turns out lunch isn't bad at all - in fact, it's nowhere near as tedious as the time they all dined with the Mayor of Bakai. Zuko and the Mayor are discussing something about the upcoming extensions on the reconstruction project, and the Earth Kingdom's development projects more broadly. Aang is simply busy with his food. Katara hums her agreement here and there at the conversation, but despite her genuine interest in the subject, she finds she can't concentrate.

" - possibly within the next five years, but it all depends on the budget in Ba Sing Se," the Mayor is saying, on Katara's right. She looks across to Zuko in front of her.

She couldn't help the trepidation that has been rising in her since yesterday's conversation. But looking at him now, it eases in the face of the familiar affection she feels. Zuko looks at the Mayor, nodding intermittently at her points. His face is clear of anxiety and his brows are drawn with thought. She doesn't know when she became accustomed to seeing that expression on him; whether the change came gradually from one speech, meeting, or conference of leaders to the next, or whether it had been something more drastic. It's almost unfathomable that this is the Zuko she first met all those years ago.

He looks _content._ Yet that's not the expression she wants to see - nothing compares to getting him to crack a smile.

She feels a nudge against her foot under the table and startles. When she looks up, Aang winks at her quickly across the table from his place next to Zuko. Katara glares at him as surreptitiously as she can.

Zuko's eyes have strayed from the Mayor to her. She clears her throat and focuses on scooping her rice. They continue their conversation. When the Mayor excuses herself to the restroom, Zuko turns to her.

"Is everything okay? Katara?"

"I'm fine," she says, watching Aang struggle to keep a blank face next to Zuko.

Zuko frowns, looking from her to Aang. "Why are you guys acting so strangely?"

"No reason," Aang says, looking around the restaurant. "I mean, we're not?" There's an insistent flush in his cheeks. Katara smirks.

"Okay, whatever," Zuko shakes his head. Next to him, Aang looks like he's going to burst or float away. He smiles at Katara, uncontainable and nervous. She can't help but put her hand out across the table and squeeze his in their bizarre solidarity.

"It's just exciting to be done with all the work here," Katara says, beaming at Zuko when he looks questioningly at them again. "And we'll be getting a break so soon."

Zuko takes a quick glance down at their clasped hands and looks up and away just as quickly. Katara swallows. She pours out more palm wine for all of them. There's no need to drag this out any longer. "Actually, there's something else, too. There's something Aang and I wanted to talk to you about, after we finish here."

Zuko's eyes shift curiously between them.

The Mayor returns to her seat. "I'll explain later," Katara says quickly.

Once they are finished and ready to leave, the Mayor looks expectantly to each of their faces. She smiles a little nervously. "I wanted to ask - if it's not too much trouble, could I have your presence for just a moment longer? There's a photographer in the town hall and it would be such an honour to have some record of - well, all three of you, here in Daoshu's halls," she says.

Aang is already acquiescing with a grin when Katara's gaze falls on Zuko. He's wearing an expression so forcibly unchanged that Katara knows he would be groaning if it weren't for the presence of the Mayor. He can barely tolerate the notion of royal portraits, nevermind the directness of a photograph. But then he smiles. "Of course. It's no trouble at all."

Aang and Katara share smirks. Aang walks ahead at the Mayor's side, talking animatedly to her about the food they just had.

Katara falls into step with Zuko. She slips his hand into hers, trying to maintain some semblance of their usual casual affection. His hand tenses in hers; Katara scolds herself silently for how that motion automatically ratchets up her heartbeat.

She can't be like _this._

"You should be getting used to photographs," she says. "There will be cameras popping up all over the Fire Nation soon, don't you think its leader is guaranteed to be the obvious victim?"

Zuko laughs darkly. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

She pauses, gulping down her hesitation. She needs to say this: it jumped to her mind the second the Mayor made her request. "I think this is perfect. We didn't get a photo with you at the wedding."

Zuko groans, purely for dramatic effect. His face is red.

* * *

Katara is surprised to find that the photography business doesn't take long. If she's remembering correctly, the camera at the wedding had been huge, obstructive compared to this one, and it had needed a tripod to stand on too. It's crazy how quickly they've managed to invent a smaller one. Even though the posing takes hardly ten minutes, Aang spends a long time chatting with the cameraman afterwards, poking and prodding at it. The guy is ecstatic, and even lets him keep the device after several timid pictures of himself with the Avatar. Katara doesn't mind, they're finished with their work after all, and she and Zuko entertain themselves by chatting over the view of Daoshu and buying more wine from the sellers outside the building.

They find themselves with drinks out on the patio of Zuko's guesthouse. The sky is pink and orange now; the sunset has been coming earlier, though just barely. From the heights of the diplomatic quarter, Katara can see clearly the construction lines, poles and materials at the foot of the mountain, standing still in wait for the work hours to begin next morning. She thinks of how different it all looked when she was flying over Daoshu to get here; the wreckage that had been here merely a couple of months ago.

She rejoins Aang and Zuko back where the seats are. There's a lull in conversation, and the noise from the crickets feel like buzzing in her brain.

"It's hot," Aang says, taking a long sip and closing his eyes, relaxed. He uses a few fingers to absentmindedly stir up a breeze around them. It glides pleasantly in Katara's hair and ruffles the fabric of Zuko's robe.

Zuko makes a sceptical noise, reaction slowed by his tranquil state. "It's not _that_ hot. It's hotter in the Fire Nation."

"There's also beaches in the Fire Nation," Aang says, sinking down into his chair more comfortably. "And pools in the palace." Katara's eyes swerve on him. Did that come out as deliberate as she heard it? Or is she just hyperaware right now?

Zuko waits a moment before cracking a wry smile, looking down at him with bare affection. "About that. Shouldn't you go somewhere that you can be alone? Just the two of you?"

"Why?"

"Aang, are you sure you know what a honeymoon is for?"

Aang laughs at that, blushing bright red, before a smirk crosses his face. "Oh, yeah. I do."

Zuko's eyes bulge. It's so comical that it makes Katara burst out laughing, despite her attempts to observe this disaster of a discussion with a straight face.

Aang adds lazily, waving a hand that sends Zuko's hair flying into his face. "Well, the palace has wings."

Zuko suffers the breeze with a surprisingly sombre expression. "Yeah, um. About that," he starts, looking between the two of them, his shoulders dropping a little. "It might not be a good idea for you to come to the palace."

Katara's stomach plummets. "Oh. I thought - well - we wanted to be with you," she says plainly, looking him in the eyes.

Aang sits up suddenly. "Well, we can't go if we're not invited by the Fire Lord."

Katara can sense the sudden strike of nerves by the jerk of his movement. She silently wills him not to be hesitant right now; it's not going to do anything good for her own bravery. But she's seen this befall him many times now, out of the sheer amount of time spent with Aang, if not the frequency of it occurring.

Before she can say something to ease him - as if she herself has it in check - Aang leaps up. "Hey, do you mind if I try out this camera?" He laughs nervously, with little trace of humour.

But Zuko's attention is still on Katara. He frowns in concern, confused by the contrast in their demeanour. "Hey, what did you want to tell me? Back at lunch."

She swallows. She looks to Aang, fiddling intently with the camera. He's not going to be any help. "It's- well..." How to even start?

"Katara, go sit closer to Zuko," Aang says lightly, looking at neither of them.

Zuko groans. " _Please_ don't -"

"Come on," Aang says, finally cracking a smile at the familiar response.

"No way, Aang."

"Please? Just one photo?" He turns the camera around in his hands. "I mean, I actually forgot how to take more than one."

Zuko grumbles, but Katara, amused by this return to form, does go to sit with him.

Aang persists, "Come on, I don't wanna die without having a photo with you."

"Don't be dramatic," Zuko scoffs, but when Katara settles against him, she can see that a smile twitches on his face.

" _I'm_ being dramatic? I didn't realise you were scared of a little photography."

Zuko rolls his eyes and scowls so exaggeratedly that Katara can't help her laughter. She puts her arms around him, leaning on his shoulder. Her stomach twists, stealing glances at his face so close, but Katara revels in their back and forth. It puts her at ease, if only slightly. Maybe it'll be better to leave the serious discussions for a while later - at least until the palm wine takes the edge off.

"Really, Zuko," Aang is saying. "Don't be a jerk to me on my honeymoon."

"You're not on your honeymoon, idiot," Zuko says, joining her laughter properly now. Katara giggles and pulls his wrist until they're closer, smiling unabashedly, adjusting his hair away from his face. He turns to her with a devastatingly serious tone. "I think your husband spent too long in the Spirit World," he tells her. "I'm not sure he can keep track of time anymore."

"You're telling _me_. You think I wanted to spend an _hour_ over there with the cameraman?" She stifles her laughter in the shoulder of his robe. Zuko shakes his head, glancing at the camera and scowling, but it doesn't have any real heat behind it anymore.

She smirks. "But he's right. You really should do it. As a wedding present."

Zuko groans and tilts his head back to the heavens. "I don't think either of you know what a wedding present is, either. I'm starting to doubt the sanity of whoever let you get married."

Katara squeezes him in her mirth, and looks up at him. " _You_ signed, Zuko."

Aang steadies the camera, grinning wide.

"Seriously, Aang, don't - I'm _really_ going to kill you - "

Katara can't help even more giggles bubbling out of her. "Zuko," she says thoughtfully. "I don't know how that would sit with your image."

Zuko rolls his eyes but she can feel the laughter rise in his chest, flush against hers. "It might be a couple of steps back but it'll be worth it," he says.

Aang looks at the two of them like he's squaring them up for the photo. "You'll be fine, Your Fieryness. No murder necessary." Then he looks Zuko square in the eyes, and with a stillness that makes Katara's stomach flutter, he says, "Just pretend I'm not here."

Zuko's eyes move from Aang to her in seconds. His laughter dies on his lips at that strange phrase, and hers at the intensity of his gaze. Katara's breath catches, exhausted from laughing.

Curious eyes, golden in the late afternoon light, stare into hers.

Oh. She swallows hard.

This is _not_ the greatest way to ease an idea into someone's mind.

But Katara doesn't think. She can't anymore. She raises a hand to Zuko's face, smooths the tension out of his brow, down past his scar, and tilts his face towards her. And then there's nothing else to do but close the distance and kiss him.


	10. Chapter 10

Zuko blinks, dazed.

The air is very still. So is he.

Katara's hands stay cupped close around his face, even as she pulls away, a hair's breadth between them to catch their breaths. Zuko's brain jolts awake at the movement, struck by lightning. Her breath on him is fast, erratic. He leans in and kisses her again, and again, pulling her in by a swift arm around her back. The feeling clouds his brain. He shifts so they're even closer, and Katara almost lifts off the seat until they're flush together, and Zuko's heart is beating out of his chest -

And he freezes. Katara must sense it. She lets him go immediately, her hands pausing awkwardly on his chest. Zuko's eyes swerve to Aang across the room. His breath catches in his throat- this isn't- he didn't mean-

Aang's eyes are wide. But he doesn't look upset. Katara, too, is strangely calm when he glances at her, if a little flustered.

Zuko stares at Aang.

Aang drops the camera in an uncharacteristic clatter. He rises in one fluid motion, like that look is puppeting him. Zuko draws in a sharp breath, bewildered and on the brink of speech. In the second it takes him to blink Aang has moved; kneeling in front of the seat right where he is.

Zuko's heartbeat rushes in his ears.

"I- I don't -" Zuko starts, but Aang is so close; way, _way_ too close, his hands laid across Zuko's knees, gripping hard.

"It's okay," Aang says gently. Then, he actually cracks a smile. "Oh, what the hell -" and he's leaning up to Zuko, pulling him close by the back of his neck. His eyes are bright and sincere when he says, "Stop me if you want."

Like _hell._

Zuko pulls him up the rest of the way by a clumsy clutch of his robe and kisses him, his brain numb. Aang doesn't last more than a few desperate seconds before he smiles so hard they have to part. He ends up pressing an uncoordinated bunch of kisses against Zuko's lips instead.

An exalted gasp next to him draws his attention to Katara, sitting with her cheeks bright and her mouth hidden behind her hand.

"I don't understand," Zuko says breathlessly.

Katara and Aang share a long look, eyes flitting back to Zuko as if they're both awestruck. It's a conversation, a private one, and Zuko thinks he should stop trying to follow it, but he can't make himself; he can't do _anything_ except stay dumb from surprise.

Katara takes his hand.

"I- we- that was - that's what we wanted to talk to you about," she says, her voice carefully schooled out of the excitement that Zuko can still feel in the minute shaking of her hand. She looks at Aang every other word; their eager smiles barely hidden by the attempt at a sober conversation. Zuko watches as Aang takes her other hand and holds it firmly.

Katara clears her throat. "And, uh, we talked about it, the two of us. We want you to, um, join us, I guess. And we thought that you might feel the same way," she continues. Zuko feels faint. "But if- if you don't, then just say it. Nothing has to change, I pro-"

She stops. Zuko realises it's because he's shaking his head. He swallows. It feels a lot like his head is spinning, even without the motion. "Both of you?" he says, taking a shaky breath. "Both of you want- ?"

"This was obviously _not_ gonna be the way we wanted to ask you," Katara cuts in quickly. She bites a smile back when they both focus on her, that sheepish hand over her mouth again. Zuko's face feels hot, and it's definitely not because of the mild temperature.

Aang looks deep in thought. "It's not - it's not _want,_ " he says. Katara takes a moment to process this before nodding hard, too.

Zuko frowns. "What do you mean?" It comes out too sharp. He can't seem to catch his breath.

Aang and Katara look at each other, regarding the situation much more steadily this time. Katara leans her face against Zuko's shoulder again with a nervous little laugh; the sound blooms like warmth in Zuko's body.

Aang takes a deep breath. He squares up, lifting himself until he's standing on his knees.

Zuko looks down at him with his full attention. "What?" he says quietly, but eye to eye, he already knows what; and that silly, wishful part of him dares to brim to the surface even as he says the words.

Aang's entire face is painfully solemn. "I love you. I really love you, Zuko," he says. "And I think you - I think you already know what I'm talking about, right?"

Zuko blinks hard. He nods once, twice. Then he takes Aang's hands in his lap and squeezes them, probably a little too hard.

He can't say it. He _can't_. Not right now, not with _this._

Aang nods like he understands, squeezing his fingers back. Zuko takes a stupid, shuddering breath and turns to Katara. Her eyes are shiny, her face anxious and hopeful.

"Katara," he says unevenly, for some kind of sign or help.

She's smiling even before his eyes fall on her, and Zuko puts his arm around her because it's easier than talking. She leans in, and he doesn't get to finish his thought because she's kissing him again. This time she can't stop smiling, and Zuko does too, the nervous laughter forming in his throat unbidden.

She holds his face with a gaze so soft that it makes his stomach uneasy. "You _know_ how important to us you are," Katara says quietly. "To me. I love you. In a lot of ways - more than I ever thought I could tell you"

Her gaze stays transfixed. Zuko might be able to look away and snap out of it if he had the space to, but he doesn't. They're both _in_ it, looking at him, holding him, brilliantly crowding away any semblance of sense Zuko could hold onto. Aang's hands tangled in his lap and Katara's wrapped around his waist; both of them in a strange offering.

Aang. Katara. For _him._

What could he _possibly_ say?

Aang clears his throat; his voice a little high with disbelief when he speaks. Zuko is glad he isn't the only one. "So, uh, this was originally supposed to be a conversation. Like, a big one, if that's alright - which I think it is? - so let's try that." He's speaking very fast, his words stumbling over one another as he continues, "unless you wanna run really far away right now, which would also be okay." He tilts his head timidly, like that's a genuine option. Like that could _ever_ be a genuine option. Zuko doesn't need to look at her to know that Katara is shaking her head at him. And just for a second, the significance is forgotten, and Zuko actually laughs out loud at the notion.

It makes Katara hold him even tighter. Zuko swallows and blinks, trying to feel more steady. It works a little. "Um, can I get a drink first?"

* * *

The morning brings a strange new air. The moment Zuko wakes up, he has to look around and recalibrate himself. The room is cleared of his belongings - it looks like it did the day he arrived. The only difference is that there's a couple of empty bottles of sweet palm wine on the table in the middle (he's really going to miss that when he leaves the city), and a couple of Katara's hair ties lying next to them. There's also Aang's elbow digging into his sternum.

The night had passed in a blur. They did end up talking, well into the early hours of the morning. The conversation was more candid than Zuko could ever have imagined. In the mad, magical state of that evening, he was unreserved, and so were Aang and Katara. It was exhilarating; falling off a precipice into something more comforting than he could have expected. Zuko was blinded, artless as ever, but it hadn't mattered. What on Earth _could_ , when something like that lay before him?

He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. The faint chirping of birds drifts through the balcony. It wasn't - it _isn't_ a dream.

When he goes outside, the mist on the mountains on the horizon is just beginning to dissipate, the sky awash with pale purple. He runs his hands over his face. He should do something normal, like feed Druk.

"Morning."

Zuko jumps with a sharp inhale, his train of thought broken.

Airbending your way around should be illegal. Aang grins gloriously.

"Oh. It's you," Zuko says, under a smile.

"Did you sleep well?" Aang says, amazingly, ignoring his tone. Well. Maybe _none_ of his disapproving remarks are going to work after what he said last night. Zuko tries not to feel too alarmed by that thought.

He makes a vaguely affirmative gesture. Aang nods his eager agreement, a goofy grin crossing his face, and circles the wide courtyard, glancing over the edge. There's a sharp drop-off beyond the railing, looking down into the trees and roads below.

He barely slept at all, actually, but he's sure Aang did, despite the fact that they all decided to pass out in Zuko's stuffy room at two in the morning full of palm wine and confessional smiles. He doesn't doubt for a moment that Aang slept soundly between the two of them. Zuko is well aware of Aang's ability to self-regulate his temperature like it's second nature, but the notion of such a mundane use amuses him.

But Zuko knows it's not the heat that kept _him_ awake.

Was it okay for someone of his... stature to feel so _excited_? He follows Aang to the corner where Druk is beginning to blink awake.

Aang approaches Druk and sits cross-legged on the ground, petting him carefully, sweeping down the coarse, long dragon goatee that drapes onto the ground. Druk squints one eye scaly open and hums, sending a low trill that reverberates in the ground under Zuko's feet.

"You know you're annoying him, don't you?" Zuko says playfully.

Aang shushes him without looking up, like the idea of aggravating a twenty-tonne mythic firebender presents no doubts for him. Talk about an ego.

Zuko fetches Druk's morning water, pulling a hose and one of the enormous pails into the corner of the courtyard. Then he sits next to Aang, blinking back a yawn. Too early for talking, they watch the sky lighten in silence. It's companionable if not comfortable. Excitement still hovers like bumbleflies in his stomach.

"Wanna go out to the mountains?" Aang asks finally. "It'll feel so secluded this early," he adds wistfully. Zuko does _not_ want to know what the accompanying expression insinuates, or maybe he does, and neither thought makes him feel like a good, unassuming friend.

Zuko nods towards the room. "Do you want to wait?"

"It's the middle of the night, as far as Katara's concerned," Aang says, hopping up to his feet. "Would not recommend waking her up right now."

"Oh, right. Well, Appa's round the front, so I guess I'll meet you there."

Aang bites back a grin so painfully mischievous that Zuko has to prepare himself for the worst.

"Actually, I've _never_ ridden a dragon," he says, twiddling his thumbs. "I always wanted to ask you to take me, ever since you got him."

" _Really_?" Zuko laughs incredulously, light as the morning breeze.

"Really."

There's a weird balance here, one that Zuko revels in - _finally,_ for the first time without apprehension or anxiety. It doesn't matter anymore how much Aang's penchant for flirting is for fun and attention, and how much it's _real_. Zuko smirks. "You really want to be Druk's breakfast so bad, Aang?" he says, but the idea of flying together is so appealing that he's already getting Druk up and ready. Druk grumbles sleepily, but he isn't going to act up when Zuko is there.

At his signal, Druk stretches his wings and brings his head towards the ground. As Zuko grapples with the reigns, Aang airbends up onto Druk's back behind him. "He might screech," Zuko says. "It's really loud from this position, so don't be alarmed." He feels Aang nod firmly behind him, holding on with a sincerity that makes Zuko want to turn around and hold him in return.

They take off in a rush of wind. Zuko makes Druk go a little (or a lot) faster than their usual pace, for fun. Aang whoops at the momentum, tightening his grip around Zuko's waist; Druk roars. Zuko just grins to the clouds.

Once they are high enough, he evens the pace, observing the city down below him. Hawkers are starting their day, dragging fruits on carts and in baskets above their heads. A single early traveller glides up Daoshu's main avenue, carried on a pulled rickshaw, the kind he's only ever seen in Fire Nation villages. The sounds of construction begin. The buildings give way to trees, the trickle of a river, as they near the mountainside. Judging by the placement of the sun in the sky, there's still a couple of hours until he needs to start for the palace.

* * *

When they get back, Katara is up, sitting out on the patio with Appa nearby. A pile of Zuko's newspapers and a bowl of sliced peaches are next to her.

"Where did you guys go?" she says, her demeanour airy.

"Just flying," Aang says, and Zuko matches his sheepish smile. Katara chastises him for not waking her, to which Aang suggests that he's never going to attempt that before the sun is up, outside of a war zone. When they kiss, Zuko doesn't feel so lost.

Aang says, "You're both still here for a little while, right? I'm going to the market." He pauses, looking between the two of them. "For souvenirs," he says pointedly. He grabs his glider leaning against the side of the door and he's off before either of them can make a proper attempt at a reply.

Zuko shares a puzzled glance with Katara.

"I think he just wants us to be able to talk alone," Katara says, amused. She leans down into the newspapers, popping another piece of fruit into her mouth. "Can you believe Cabbage Corp is actually putting people out of business?" She shakes her head, holding out the bowl to him with a glittering smile. "Peach?"

Zuko takes one, sitting next to her. He picks up a sheet of paper, dated two days ago, and reads about Republic City's burgeoning white collar crime rate. He wonders briefly how Toph is going to deal with that. But Katara fidgets next to him, her leg jumping incessantly. Zuko turns to her.

"When are you leaving?" he asks.

"About an hour."

"You're nervous."

She looks up instantly. "Oh, I am. I _know_ I shouldn't be. It's just - the conference. I was the one who got bloodbending outlawed in the first place. It was almost _all_ my testimony, and I argued so hard for it. What if people think I'm a hypocrite?"

Zuko takes a breath in with a small smile. "That's not the end of the world, believe me."

She looks sadly at him, lifting a hand almost automatically to brush a loose lock of hair from his face. "Oh, of course, I didn't mean it like that."

Zuko ignores the way he instinctively holds his breath. "I didn't either. I mean, how much do you really believe in this, Katara?"

She puts down the paper. "A _lot_. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, while I'm in the hospital working. The kind of things we could do with that level of precision. I owe it to people to at least try."

"There's your answer," Zuko says.

Katara nods, rolling her shoulders to steel herself. "You're right." She studies him, Zuko's firmness faltering a little under her gaze. "Thank you, by the way, for letting me, uh, practice. It really helped a lot. I know I kind of brushed over it that night," she finishes, eyes down.

Oh. Zuko's face burns. "Sure," he coughs. _That's_ not the reason he remembers it, but all right.

An impish smile crawls up Katara's face. Thankfully, however, she doesn't _say_ anything about it. After a long moment, she shoves the papers, and the fruit bowl out of the way, facing him. Her face is scrupulous. "You're - _really_ okay with this?"

Zuko hates how shy the question makes him feel. He's not a _kid._ "I couldn't dream-"

Katara can't seem to hold back her thoughts, rushing, "I know that it might be weird - because, well. Since we're married, obviously. I know it tripped me up a bit - a lot at first."

Zuko quirks his eyebrow, puzzled. "At first?"

Katara wrings her hands into her skirt, glancing at the ground. "I mean - when I realised that I still had feelings for you. And that they were much stronger than I thought. I felt like I _had_ to be with you or it wouldn't feel right, and I was married..."

Zuko blinks as she trails off. He could be on fire right now and not know the difference. He starts quietly, "I thought I'd never be able to tell you - either of you - for that reason, not that it would make-" He stops short, his brain working. "Wait. What do you mean _still?_ "

"I mean, before… now." Katara says cryptically. She gives a sheepish laugh at Zuko's gaping expression, her tone defensive. "What? It's _not_ weird to have a crush on you. It's actually quite common. When we were travelling around, after the war, I heard -"

Zuko might actually be steaming out of his ears.

"After the _war?"_ He covers his face with his hand, mortified. Not even recently, but when he was still just a dumb _teenager,_ Fire Lord or not? Back then?

He might need more time to process _that_ than this new unexpected reality.

Katara smiles widely, under a burst of jittery laughter. "Yes," she mumbles, her voice tiny. Sheesh. Zuko considers the sheer _idea_ of it, fighting the urge to hide his face behind his hands again. He's just glad he gave her something to focus on besides her anxiety.

She clears her throat. "But, you _know_ I'm not talking about a crush, don't you?" she says, pulling at the neckline of his robe. "We're serious about you. It might sound unbelievable given the circumstances, but don't think for a second that you're _secondary_ to either of us." She drops her gaze, smoothing the fabric on his shoulders. "You haven't been for a long time."

Zuko looks at her sweet, earnest face, his heart beating fast. _I know_ , he wants to say. Or _I didn't know._ Or, _thanks for saying it,_ maybe, but that one would sound a bit stupid _._ But he just stares. He has _got_ to get better at this.

In the end, he pulls her close by both her arms, then her waist, and says, "Come to the palace when you're done."

* * *

The holiday home on Ember Island is not a place Zuko normally wants to visit with a whole entourage - too many complicated memories here - but when it it turns out that the whole gang can make it, he makes an exception. Things in the capital are steady for the moment, with the metalworking unions appeased by the job in Daoshu. It's the perfect time for a break, even if he'd needed Uncle to convince him of it. " _I am getting old_ ," he had said, his favourite excuse for making Zuko do things, slightly diminished by the fact that he was sparring with Zuko as he said so, " _I would like to have as many vacations with my dear nephew as possible, before I succumb to age and never see beyond a wing of this palace._ "

Aang shows Uncle photos of the wedding over the low table near the door of the reception room. Zuko peeked over his shoulder on his way through: his stomach still feels weird at the sight of that scene on the beach. There was one picture, just the two of them, their faces half hidden in shadow by the closeness of the embrace. Zuko could hear the breeze that day just by looking at it, could feel the strange yearning pulling in his chest.

He looks between them now - Aang up at the table and Katara across the Pai Sho board in front of him - and he feels lighter just by seeing them now.

"These are quite spectacular," Uncle says, musing over a photograph, holding it up to the light to examine the printing. "And the event. Just beautiful." He catches Zuko's eyes with a an admonishing but ultimately playful look. "Why did you choose to not be in a single one?"

Zuko grumbles. He wants to say, _there's one from Daoshu if you really want_ , but _that_ would be weird, what kind of meaning does a random official photo have compared to one taken in celebration with friends?

"Yeah, Zuko, why didn't you?" Toph pipes up from her place lounging directly on the cool stone floor.

Zuko tries not to visibly groan, unsure if he's glad or not that the glare he throws her is too surreptitious in movement for her to see. Toph _does_ know about them, and she seems to want to take every chance to gleefully annoy Zuko over it. She had figured it out the moment she'd arrived, cornering him in a corridor.

"Your Highness." Her first words were said in the least reverent tone Zuko could imagine. "You're looking… different. Did you get a girlfriend? Or was the audience in Daoshu just that good?" she said.

In that moment, Katara had decided to come by with a row of surfboards under her arm, a lingering hand on Zuko's back to tell him which beach they would be at. There was no hiding his reaction to _that._ Toph's eyes had widened. And then he'd _had_ to explain himself; sputtering not to incriminate - well, any of them. Her eyebrows had risen to the ceiling before they dropped in a cool nod; like she was taking notes on a case. "Well," she'd finally said. "I always knew something weird was going on here."

Zuko is saved from giving a reason for avoiding the photos by Sokka's arrival. He saunters in, carrying a mountain of food from one of the myriad of tourist outlets at the next beach down. The city-style restaurants seem to really be catching on everywhere. He pauses at Aang and Iroh's activity, before sitting down to watch Zuko and Katara at their Pai Sho game. "I thought there would be more contrast in the photos," he says, extracting an expensive looking komodo rhino skewer from the top of his pile. "I think I still prefer paintings."

"I know you do," Katara says, chin in her hand, giving her brother an unimpressed glance before going back to examining the board.

He glares at her. "And that guy at the wedding was annoying. It would be much better if there was a way to take 'em yourself," he takes a bite from his skewer after sizing it up. He puts his chin in his hand. "I'm not sure about the angle though. Maybe, if it was on the end of a stick, or something…"

After noticing that no one in the room would be interested in that kind of contraption, his conversation changes tack. "How was the honeymoon?" he calls up at Aang, glancing between Katara and the table.

"It was great, Sokka," Aang says casually.

It was.

"I can't believe Zuko just gave you a free pass to do whatever you want up there… that's just not fair."

Toph laughs, high and gleeful. Zuko silently thanks her for keeping her mouth shut.

"I mean, if I had known that there are luxury pools and buffets in the Fire Nation Palace these days, I'd have come."

"I don't think it was all pools and eating, Sokka," Toph says drily.

 _Or not._ Zuko chokes on his tea; watching Aang whose eyes widen like saucers before he coughs and loudly explains the totally uninteresting list of Tribe members in one photo to Uncle.

"Zuko, pay attention," Katara says, looking at the board, her face devoid of a reaction. Only when Sokka and Toph turn away to converse about pools does she turn to him, her mouth twisting into a sly smile.

"I am," he says, frowning down at the Pai Sho board between them.

They've managed to get about three steps in after twenty minutes of playing. Uncle has been shaking his head whenever he catches sight of the board.

Whatever.

"You're losing," Katara says.

Zuko examines the board carefully. "What? No, I'm not. You're losing."

"Do you guys even remember how to play?" Toph butts in unhelpfully. "If you don't, move. I want to play with Iroh."

Katara makes a mild attempt at a frustrated sigh. "This is going nowhere. Let's go outside," she suggests. Zuko looks up, pretending not to see the serene smile Uncle gives Aang, who is looking like he could disappear into the chair right about now. Toph smirks at him when she takes over his seat in front of the board.

Katara made the right call. He _really_ wants to go outside.

"Wait for me," Aang says, flying up from his seat.

It's a quick walk down to the beach. Even though it's well past sunset, the sky is clear out here. Zuko can make out where the waves wash up on the black shore. Katara runs right up to the edge of the pier, sits and swings her legs over the side. Zuko breathes in the sea that smells like her hair before he sits next to her.

In barely a minute, Aang follows them out of the door. "I think your Uncle knows, Zuko," he says, lying down on the pier, dunking one leg over the side into the water.

"Don't tell me that," Zuko all but snaps. "I don't know how to explain it to him."

Aang grins up at him. He and Katara start up a bizarre game of waterbending footsie under the planks. The waves glide pleasantly along Zuko's legs.

Aang hums. "Well, maybe Toph will."

Zuko groans dramatically at the idea, just enough to make them laugh. He doesn't mind, really. Aang starts to prod Katara about the thought of Sokka knowing, both of them bursting into even more laughter at the idea.

He can't think of anything he minds less. Aang sits up, head loose on Zuko's shoulder as he swings around to face the ocean. "Hey, when will you be back in Republic City?"

"I'm scheduled to be there in two weeks for a meeting, actually," he says. "The United Republic Committee, Aang, _remember?_ "

"I would have remembered closer to the date," he replies matter-of-factly.

Katara frowns, tracing Zuko's hand in hers. "Oh. I'm supposed to be sitting in a jury back South then."

"Hmm," Aang says. "We'll figure it out."

The breeze is wondrous. Zuko nods slowly in agreement and closes his eyes, listening to the waves hit the shore in a repetitive lull. Katara sighs contently next to him, breathing in the sea air. Aang lazily swirls the water at their feet in rhythmic patterns.

Zuko has no doubt that they will.

* * *

A/N: This fic was beta'd by the lovely blueandie. Thanks to those that read to the end! I would love to hear your thoughts. :)


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